It'll Be Fun
by Vinividivinci
Summary: Jack and the Team go away to a cabin for a relaxing Thanksgiving weekend, instead have to fight for their lives.  Whump, adventure and the beginnings of the realization, for Jack, that Sam is more than a teammate  not too shippy .
1. Chapter 1

**_My new story. As always whump and more whump (but also friendship, fluff and maybe some cuddles!). This takes place early (maybe Season Two) but this time on Earth. Hope you all enjoy._**

"It'll be fun guys, you'll see." Jack was practically bouncing as he walked out of the mountain, followed by the rest of his team. It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and he'd conned the rest of SG1 into going away for the long weekend. Going all the way to Minnesota was a little too far, so he'd borrowed a friend's cabin on Mount Evans, just west of Denver.

The last few missions had been stressful and he figured they could use a little down time. He'd also noticed that tempers had been flaring and even Teal'c was a bit 'snarky'. So, he reasoned, a little 'team bonding' in a relaxed atmosphere would be good, hence the trip.

"Jack, my idea of fun is not going to some wilderness area and hiking in frigid temperatures. Sounds way too much like another mission to me."

"I concur O'Neill – I would much rather be at home watching movies and eating popcorn."

"Teal'c! You've been corrupted! Where's your spirit of adventure? Where's your Jaffa desire to conquer the elements, to pit man against nature and win? To boldly go where no Jaffa has gone before?"

"I believe it is on Chulak."

"Huh?" Jack turned a confused eye on his large friend.

"My desire to conquer the elements O'Neill. It is on Chulak. On Earth I prefer to watch the elements on the Discovery Channel." Jack was sure he heard a snort from Carter.

"Okay Carter, at least you're with me right? You appreciate a good wilderness adventure don't ya?" He looked at her expectantly.

She thought he looked like a 10 year old, wanting his parents to love Disneyland as much as he did. She really didn't want to disappoint him, she really wanted to say 'yes Sir, I love going on a wilderness adventure after 5 straight missions tramping around alien planets, getting shot at, swarmed by large alien biting insects and practically getting drowned in a flash flood on P9Y 22Z but her heart really wasn't in it.

"Uh – yes Sir", she replied, refusing to look at her Commander.

"Come on Sam, you don't sound very enthusiastic."

"Well, actually Sir, I kind of had plans this weekend."

"Plans. Really? What kind of plans?"

"If you must know I wanted to get my hair done and go for a manicure and pedicure! It's been a while since I've been!"

This pronouncement was greeted by dead silence on the part of the three men on her team. Glancing at them she could almost hear their thoughts. "Sam Carter, a girly-girl?, Sam Carter getting her nails done!" Geesh, what did they think? Just because she was a damn good soldier didn't mean she didn't enjoy being feminine once in a while.

"Ah, okay Carter. I tell ya what, you can go next week for all that …. stuff and we won't say a thing!"

"Why thank you Sir. How kind of you!" with that she walked ahead to her car, parked in the lot at Cheyenne Mountain.

"So Carter – we'll be by to pick you up in about an hour." He called to her retreating back. Go figure, who would have thought Sam to have been into 'beauty treatments'! He remembered that Sara used to try and go regularly, said it made her feel better, but he'd never thought Carter would like that kind of thing. He pretty much thought of her as 'one of the guys' – although now that he thought about it, she was a pretty woman.

As he walked to his car, followed silently by Daniel and Teal'c, he thought about Carter and the role she played on his team. She was a damn fine officer – he could honestly say one of the best he'd ever served with. After their little adventure in Antarctica he'd felt like they'd grown closer, as team mates. But, he could honestly say that he'd never really thought of her as a woman, per se – she was just a comrade, a team-mate – someone he served with and kicked Goa'uld butt with (yes, you believe that - you really do O'Neill!)!

The thought of Carter – no – Sam – in a beauty salon getting her nails done kinda made him look at her in a bit different way.

Giving his head a quick shake (can't go there O'Neill!) he turned to Daniel.

"So Danny Boy – you all set? All packed? Got your survival gear all ready?"

"Survival gear? I thought we were going to a cabin. You know, fireplace, bathroom, full kitchen, hot tub – all the necessities for a cabin in the wilderness."

Jack just looked at him and smirked.

"Na, what would be the fun in that? Might as well stay home if you want those things."

"What a good idea Jack. I think I'll do that."

"No way Daniel. You're coming and you're going to have a wonderful time! You too Teal'c – you're going to experience a real Earth adventure in the majestic Rocky Mountains, one of the most beautiful places on Earth – or in the universe!"

Realizing how much this weekend meant to their friend, Daniel and Teal'c looked at each other. A silent message passed between them – they could at least _pretend_ to have a good time.

"Indeed O'Neill. I look forward to it."

"See, there ya go! That's the spirit. What about you Daniel?"

"I guess I can try Jack. Just tell me that there is a bathroom at least?"

"Of course. It's not _that_ primitive!"

"Implying that it is _somewhat_ primitive?" Daniel groaned.

"Hey, what's the use of going to the wilderness if you bring your house with you. Anyway, I got us a treat."

"What?'

"You'll have to wait and see. Okay Daniel, I'm gonna swing home and grab my things and I'll be by to pick you and then Carter up. Teal'c you comin' with me?"

"I have my things with me O'Neill. I can go with Daniel Jackson and help him get ready."

"Okee Dokee. See you shortly." Jack walked (no – he really _was_ bouncing, thought Daniel) to his truck, waving haphazardly at his friends.

Yup – it was gonna be a great weekend, he thought. No System Lords (up yours Apophis!), no Jaffa (alright, except for his friendly, personal Jaffa buddy), no sleet covered alien planets, just three friends, a cabin and fresh mountain air. What a great way to spend Thanksgiving.

"So, what kinda music you wanna listen to?" Jack asked as they started on the highway. Teal'c was in the front seat with him, Daniel and Sam in the back. Thank goodness he had a big truck and not a little itsy bitsy car like his teammates had.

"Country/Jazz/Pop" came at once from his three friends. He looked at Teal'c in surprise,

"Country?" He somehow couldn't imagine Teal'c listening to Vince Gill or Garth Brooks – now, Shania Twain! yeah, even he'd listen to country for her!

"All right. Classical it is!" He reached over and switched his favorite Classical music station on. As the strains of Mozart filled the car he could feel the tension begin to seep from his body.

The drive normally wouldn't be too long – just over 2 hours – but tonight the weather wasn't cooperating. It had started to snow as they drove higher into the mountains. It wasn't a soft, fluffy snow but rather an icy, sleeting kind that made driving particularly treacherous.

The occupants of the car were quiet, knowing Jack needed to concentrate in order to drive. As visibility got worse he slowed until he was driving at almost a crawl. They'd been driving for almost 3 hours when Jack saw lights ahead.

"Okay guys, let's take a break. I need to get a cup of coffee and rest my eyes. Driving into the snow is hard on em."

"Are you sure it's safe to go on Jack? Maybe we should stop somewhere for the night." Daniel was feeling really nervous about the conditions. Some of the cliffs to the side of the road were pretty steep!

"No where to stop Daniel. We passed the last town miles ago. It would take us longer to go back than to go to the cabin. This little coffee shop is the last place for miles. Don't worry, it'll be okay. I'm from Minnesota right. We're used to conditions like these and my truck is a four wheel drive. I'm going real slow just to be on the safe side. We should get there soon."

"Do you think we'll be stuck for a while Sir? It looks pretty bad."

"I don't think so. Usually these blow over in a day or so. With my truck we shouldn't have any trouble getting out. Nervous about being stuck with three guys in an isolated cabin Carter?" he grinned.

"Yes Sir – at least nervous about being stuck with you and Daniel for days. I can just hear all the arguing. Teal'c now – him I could take." She laughed back at her CO. He had been right – getting away from the mountain had been a good idea. Even though she was nervous about the drive she could feel the tension of all their missions melt from her the farther they got from Cheyenne Mountain.

"Ha! You wouldn't say that if we really were stuck. Teal'c doesn't have any experience of surviving a snow storm in the mountains – but I do!" he looked quite pleased with himself, as if this gave him something to 'lord over' Teal'c.

"That is true O'Neill. I have always avoided being stuck in a place with freezing temperatures and ice. Putting myself into a position where I had to learn those skills did not seem wise."

"Maybe not – but you sure missed a lot of fun!" As he was speaking Jack slowly pulled into the parking lot of the tiny coffee shop and gas station. They could see a light on inside but it didn't appear as if there were any customers.

The team quickly ran in doors, their coats still packed in the trunk. Sam made a beeline for the Ladies room and the guys sat at a bench. An old man who couldn't have been much under 80 came up to the table.

"Surprised to see you here in this weather. Most folks stayed away today. Where ya headed?"

"We're going to Jim O'Reilly's place for the holidays. He's a buddy of mine."

"Air Force are ya?"

"Yup. We've come from Colorado Springs."

"Hmmm. Haven't seen Jim in a while. He's a good guy. Never the same after the Gulf of course. It's a miracle he made it home."

"Uh … yeah. So – could we get some coffee and maybe something to eat?"

"Sure – coffee's no problem. My cook didn't make it in so all I've got are some baked goods. Pie is good if you want a piece of that?"

"Yeah – pie sounds great. Teal'c? Daniel? You guys want pie too?"

"What kind do you have?" asked Teal'c.

"I have apple, chocolate cream or blueberry. They're all good – wife makes em."

"Then I am honored. I shall have the blueberry."

"Apple for me" added Daniel.

"Well then – I'll go with the chocolate. Uh, there's a lady with us – she'll have a coffee with double cream, no sugar. Not sure if she'll want pie."

"No problem, I'll bring yours first."

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you know how Sam likes her coffee?"

"Whatya mean? I've known her for a couple of years – seen her drink coffee enough."

"Yeah, but she doesn't usually take cream."

"Not when she's off world but she does when she's at home."

"Really? I didn't know that. So, do you know how Teal'c or I take our coffee?"

Jack sat and stared at his friend. He had absolutely no idea. Why that made a frisson of 'something' travel up his spine he didn't know. Suddenly he started to feel rather – breathless. He could even feel his heart rate increase.

"Uh – you take coffee anyway you can get it Daniel. I think you'd take it in an IV if you could." (Nice save O'Neill, if I do say so myself!)

"That is true O'Neill. But what about me. How do I take my coffee?"

"Hey, what's with the interrogation here guys? I simply ordered the woman – uh I mean Carter – a coffee. What's the big deal?"

"It's just that you usually don't notice those kind of details Jack. It seemed kind of weird."

"It's not weird, I'm just being a gentleman."

Daniel laughed. "You, a gentleman? Come on Jack – you're the guy who challenged us to a farting contest on Drizendia."

"So – and your point? You gotta admit they were the most uptight people in the world. I just wanted to let off some steam." Daniel choked back another laugh at this. "I swear that those guys must have had giant sticks up their - Carter – you're back!"

"Yes Sir. Did you think I wouldn't be?"

'No, no, of course not. Just didn't see you there for a minute."

"Oh, okay. So what were you guys talking about?"

Jack choked. "Nothing, nothing at all. Just wondering if you wanted pie?"

"Mmmm there's pie? What kind?"

"Apple, blueberry, chocolate." He answered, relieved that he'd gotten through that conversation relatively unscathed.

"Chocolate, of course! So, did anyone order me a coffee?"

"Yes, O'Neill ordered one for you."

"Thanks Sir. I'd better ask the man to bring cream. I always like it in my coffee when I'm home."

"Jack already asked for double cream for you." Daniel had a small smirk on his face. Jack looked over and gave him a very 'evil eye'.

"Oh – thanks. I didn't know you knew I liked cream Sir."

"Must have seen you order it somewhere Carter." he muttered. Please, change the subject for God's sake.

"Well thanks again. Anyway, I agree with the Colonel."

"You do Sam?", said Daniel. "Agreed with what?"

"That the people on Drizendia were the most uptight people in the universe. I don't think it was a stick sir – I think it was a tree trunk! And I still say I won the contest!"

He couldn't help but laugh, both at Sam and at Daniel's expression. He grew to lo– like his Captain more and more each day. Only she seemed to truly appreciate his humor. In fact, he suspected, more and more, that she had a pretty wicked sense of humor of her own. One day he'd love to see her as herself and not as his Second. He knew there would always be a bit of restraint between them because of that. Oh well – maybe one day they'd be able to get to know each other outside of a chain of command..

"See Daniel – I told ya. Sometimes you need to let off some steam!"

The old man – Frank by name – returned shortly with their coffee and pie. He went back to get a piece for Sam but when he brought it he stopped to chat. He hadn't had many customers that day, and none for hours, and he was a man who liked to talk!

"So mister – howdya you know Jim?" he asked, looking at O'Neill.

"We met overseas."

"Really? Were you in the service together?"

"Uh – sort of."

"Now, what do you mean by 'sort of'? You youngsters, never can speak plain English."

Jack raised his eyebrows. It had been many years since he'd been referred to as a youngster. He really didn't want to talk about this but was afraid Frank was going to push it.

"We weren't in the same unit but we were both in the Air Force."

"So, howdya meet?" Frank was really not going to let this go.

"We met in the Gulf."

"You were there too, were ya? Heard it was a nasty war. Not like Viet Nam though. Nothin was like that. My oldest was a soldier in Nam. Never was the same when he got back. So what was it like in the Gulf?"

"Hot" Jack hoped that his short answers would discourage the man but they hadn't seemed to as of yet.

"Yeah, I bet. So you ran into old Jim there did ya? Did you know him before he was captured?"

"No"

"So, it was after he was released? Wait though - I thought he was shipped back immediately. He was in bad shape when he got out. Told me the only reason he survived was because of an officer who helped him in prison. Said the guy was a real jokester – but always seemed to be able to distract the guards from hurting the other prisoners. Said he used to make the guards so angry they'd pick on him rather than the others. Jim said at first they all thought he was an idiot but then they realized he did it intentionally. He soon became a hero to the guys. Jim idolizes the man."

There was complete silence at the table. His teammates had stopped eating and were staring at him. Shit, this was so not what he wanted.

"Probably just doin' his duty. Uh, could I have some more coffee?" he asked Frank, hoping to distract the man.

"Sure, refills are on the house." He walked over and got the pot and refilled everyone's cup. He then continued to stand there.

"Yup – quite some guy this one was. A Major, Jim said. He was there longer than most and I guess by the time they were released he was in pretty bad shape. Jim said he was surprised he survived. I guess the Iraqis liked to torture him quite a bit. Did things to him that no one should have to go through. Why, he told me they even -"

"Uh, no offense, but I think we should be going", Jack interrupted quickly. He really couldn't stand listening to a description of Iraqi torture methods. "Could we get the bill? We should be getting on the road."

"Na – for a friend of Jim's – and a veteran – it's on the house."

"Thanks, but you don't need to do that."

"My pleasure! If Jim ever has that Major up here I'd do more than give him pie and coffee! I'd feed him till he was fit to burst and then I'd like to shake his hand and thank him for all he's done for our country. It's men like that that make me proud to be an American! Hey – you didn't know him did you?"

"Don't think so." Jack was standing up, refusing to look at anyone. His team still hadn't uttered a word.

"What was his name? Let me think. I know Jim told me. Talked about him all the time."

"Thanks so much for the pie and coffee Frank. Tell your wife it was fantastic. You're a lucky man. Have a good night." Jack quickly turned and walked to the door, followed by his friends. He opened the door and walked into the frigid night.

"Jack. It was Jack – that was his name. Sure you didn't know him?" but Frank was speaking to an empty room.

"Hmmpp – young people – always in a hurry!" Frank turned and began cleaning up the table.

As Jack turned the car engine on and pulled out, slowly, from the little café, he realized his former feeling of relaxation had fled. Instead he felt incredibly embarrassed and a host of long-supressed memories came flooding back.

"So Jack…..?"

"Leave it Daniel." There was a pause as the younger man contemplated the back of his friend's head.

"I was just going to ask how long until you think we'll arrive."

Letting out a huff of relief Jack entered into a conversation about the estimated arrival time as well as plans for the next few days. All of them had agreed, silently, to not refer to what they'd heard in the diner. They all knew a bit of Jack's history – but this was the first they heard that he'd been tortured. It didn't surprise any of them – it only made them love and respect him even more.

"Let's see what's happening in the world." Jack muttered. He needed to get his mind off things and music just wasn't cutting it.

He turned on a news station and they all listened to the very depressing news. Mostly it was nothing new – economic woes, war overseas, political infighting, theft, murder, extortion – it was all the same. A local trustee had embezzled millions of dollars from a local school board, a bank had been robbed in Denver and three people had been killed. The robbers were still on the loose.

"You know, we spend so much time off world, dealing with tremendous evil – with Goa'ulds and other bad aliens - that I sometimes forget we have our own evil right here. Somehow I always think of Earth in positive terms when I'm away but we have our fair share of bad guys." Sam sat shaking her head. Her good mood of earlier had also dissipated.

"Yeah - we have our own snakes!"

"I did not know you had Goa'ulds here on Earth O'Neill. No one has told me of that." Jack laughed softly as he heard a note of pique in Teal'c's voice. The Jaffa thought they'd been hiding something from him.

"No Teal'c – not real snakes – metaphorical ones."

"Metaphorical snakes. I do not know of these." He answered, sounding very confused.

"All Jack means is that we have really evil people here who act like they have snakes – we don't have any Goa'uld, at least as far as we know."

"Ever the optimist Dr. Jackson?

"Just a realist Jack."

"Yeah – I guess. Hey, we're almost there. The turn off is just ahead. Soon we'll be in front of a toasty fire guys."

All of them looked forward to getting out of the car and getting warmed up.

After a few minutes they'd arrived and they pulled their things from the car. There were also some boxes which Jack had brought although they didn't know what was inside.

"What's in the boxes Jack?'

"You'll see Daniel, you'll see. Okay, I get first dibs on the bathroom! Make yourselves at home. Jim said he'd left the heat on for us so it should be warm. Decide where you want to sleep – I think there are three rooms so two of us can share." Jack turned and went down the hall. All that coffee was making itself heard.

After he'd left, the other three stood and looked at each other. Daniel was, of course, the one to break the silence.

"Well, that was uncomfortable."

"Yes – for O'Neill. It must have been very difficult for him to be reminded of that time."

"He's never spoken of it." Sam added, worried about her CO.

"No, and I don't think he ever will. That's not Jack's way. I do think it's probably brought back some ugly memories so I, for one, plan to have a wonderful time the next few days. It's going to be very busy and filled with lots of things to do."

Sam and Teal'c looked at him and nodded. Yes, she thought, it was up to them to take the Colonel's mind off bad things and create a wonderful holiday for him.

By the time he'd returned they were all busy unpacking their things. When each of them had gone into their respective bedrooms (Daniel and Teal'c were sharing the one with the twin bunk beds) Jack pulled the boxes into the kitchen and started putting his 'surprise' away.

When they'd all finished and returned to the main living area (quaint but with comfy couches and a roaring fire) they were ready to sit and relax. Jack noticed that Carter (not Sam, O'Neill, not Sam) had changed into cozy pajamas. He decided to go and put some sweats on. As he was leaving he turned to his friends.

"So, anyone up for a game of poker?"

"Yes Sir"

"That'd be great Jack."

"Indeed O'Neill, that would be most welcome."

He looked a little in surprise at the ready agreement of his team, but then shrugged. He guessed they were getting into it after all.

Yeah – he was really looking forward to this weekend!


	2. Cooking

**_No whumping yet folks. Just a whimsical bit in honor of the upcoming holiday. Hey - if anyone has some good Thanksgiving recipes I'd love to have them - I collect recipes. Hope you enjoy. More adventure to come soon._**

She awoke to pots banging and doors closing. Wondering, for a second, what was going on, she quickly remembered that she was at a cabin with her team. It seemed quite dark so she figured it must still be early. That was why, when she looked at her watch on the nightstand, she was surprised to see it was almost 10:00 a.m.

She was sure something must be wrong with her watch – she never slept in that late. Kneeling up on the bed she pulled the curtain over the small window and looked out – into a snowy, stormy world.

That's why it's dark she realized. It was storming out. But stil, she couldn't believe she'd slept so long. Although, to be fair to herself, she'd had a long day yesterday – working until noon then driving through a snowstorm and finally staying up playing games with the guys.

She smiled as she thought about the last evening. She, Teal'c and Daniel had agreed to Jack's suggestions to play poker, more because they wanted to help him forget any bad memories 'Frank' had brought up than because they really wanted to play. However, it had turned out to be a fun evening after all.

Jack had pulled out some popcorn and made a big batch over the old gas stove. He'd drenched it in butter and salt and they'd pigged out. Teal'c had polished off an incredible amount! It seems that Jaffa have a real affinity for buttered popcorn.

They'd also downed a number of beers although none of them had had too much. In fact, they'd switched to cocoa after a while. Then there were the games. They'd started out with poker then, as they grew sillier (okay, a tiny bit drunk) and more tired they'd moved to 'Liar'. They'd finished up the evening with a roaring game of charades after Daniel had tried to explain it to Teal'c and Jack had suggested they just do it rather than explain it.

It had been difficult for the alien at first. He didn't know many of the cultural or popular allusions so had a hard time guessing. When they got to movies and TV shows, however, he cleaned up! It seems he spent much of his downtime at the mountain watching television.

She laughed to herself, thinking about Teal'c trying to act out 'bugs bunny'. The picture would stay in her mind for a long time!

It was a sound of another pot banging that brought her back to the present. What in heck was going on, she wondered? Pulling on her warm robe and slippers she headed out to the living area so see who – or what – was making all that noise.

"Sir!" she exclaimed in surprise. The last thing she had expected was to see her Commanding Officer in the kitchen – cooking? He had the small counter covered with food, utensils and dishes. It looked like a major production in process.

"Mornin' Carter. Have a good sleep?"

"Yes Sir. I can't believe I slept in so late."

"Ah, it's the fresh mountain air. It'll do it to you every time."

"Yeah, that and the 3 beers and staying up till 3:00 a.m."

"Hey, you're young. You should be able to handle that."

"Well, I haven't really done too much of it since my college days. And anyway Colonel, you were up before me."

He grinned and looked at her – onion in hand.

"That's because I have _**lots**_ of experience Carter. I had years of training in getting up after a wild night."

"Well, I don't know if I'd call it 'wild' Sir, although it was fun."

"What! You don't think seeing Teal'c bounce across the floor pretending to have bunny ears wasn't wild?"

"I grant you that Sir – it was pretty wild", she grinned back at her CO "Uh, speaking of Teal'c – where is he and where's Daniel?"

"Teal'c came out a while ago and saw me cooking. He then turned tail and claimed he

had to 'Kel'noreem' some more. I think he was just afraid to chop onions. Coward! Daniel's still sleeping. I think he had one and a half beers – so he'll probably have a hang-over."

"So what are you cooking Sir? It looks like quite a production."

"Captain, I'm shocked! What day is today?"

"Uh – Thursday Sir."

"Yes, of course it's Thursday – but _**what**_ Thursday?"

"Oh – let me see. It's …. Why it's Thanksgiving", she said with surprise.

"Captain – I really think you spend way too much time under the Mountain. Now tell me, what do people usually do on Thanksgiving?"

"Well, I'd usually spend the day reading or doing experiments in my garage. My father would sometimes order pizza for supper."

He just stood looking at her blankly for a moment. Shaking his head he put down the knife he was holding and walked over to his Captain.

"Sam – Thanksgiving is a day for eating _**Turkey and all the trimmings**_. I like pizza as much as the next guy – in fact, probably better than the next guy – but you have to have turkey today." Shaking his head he took her hand and pulled her to the kitchen.

"Now, part of enjoying the day is also _**cooking**_ the dinner. So, you can help me prepare it."

"Uh Sir?"

"Yes Carter."

"We don't have a turkey."

"Hah!" he exclaimed, walking to the refrigerator. "Yes we do. I brought one with us", opening the door he showed her the large turkey taking up most of the space in the small refrigerator.

"You brought a turkey Sir?"

"Yup – and all the trimmings. But I need your help to get everything going (especially since Teal'c whimped out – traitor!).

"Colonel, I really don't think I'm the right person for this. I've never done a turkey before. Maybe Daniel would be better."

"Nope, no way – you're not getting out of it that easy Captain. You are going to stay here and learn how to do a Thanksgiving Dinner – it's the American way. You are an officer in the Air Force – you really can't _**not**_ do this."

"So, this is an order Sir? This is part of being an officer?" she was having trouble keeping the grin off her face.

"An order Captain? –No, of course not – I couldn't order you to do that – that wouldn't be proper. However, if you _**don't**_ help – I could always dump you in a snow drift!" he smirked.

"Sir!, she squaked. "That would be – that would be really mean!"

"Yup – but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

"And that's make me cook!"

"Hey, you'll thank me for it someday Carter. When you have a passel of kiddies around your ankles all clamoring for turkey you'll look back and say 'Colonel O'Neill was one of the best Commanding Officers I ever had. He was the one who taught me to cook Thanksgiving Dinner!"

"Yes Sir – I'm sure it'll happen just like that one day. Okay, so if I have to help you'll have to tell me what to do."

"Hey Captain – _**that's**_ something I'm already good at." He laughed at her.

"Yes Sir, you certainly are."

So, the Colonel proceeded to teach her how to make Turkey dinner. It turned out he had been in the process of preparing the stuffing. He told her the ingredients and watched as she mixed up the fragrant breadcrumbs with onions and spices and (lots!) of butter. He then got the turkey out of the fridge and rinsed it off.

"Okay Captain, go to it."

"Go to what Sir?"

"Stuff it!'

"What?"

"Stuff the turkey."

"But, I don't know how." She looked down at the very large, very pale, very _**dead**_ looking bird. How did one go about stuffing a turkey?

"Captain – you're an honest to goodness genius and you can't figure it out."

She turned and looked at him, her eyes narrowed. Oooooh! She could see what he was doing. He was going to stand there and watch to see if she made a fool of herself. Okay O'Neill – I'll show you that a Carter is up to the task!

Stepping over to the sink, where the (dead!) turkey resided she gingerly reached in and touched it. Yech! She pulled her hand back quickly – it felt really gross. She could see the Colonel from the corner of her eye – smirking at her. Fine – I'll show you Colonel!

She reached in again and grabbed the damn thing. It almost slipped out of her grasp but she managed to hold on to it. Looking at it carefully she finally saw the cavity where the head must have, at one time, resided. Opening it slightly she looked inside. Ooooh, she didn't think she was going to want to eat any stuffing if this is where it went!

Holding the cavity open she turned to the bowl but realized it was too far away to reach.

"Uh Colonel?"

"Yes Captain?"

"Can you pass me the stuffing?"

"Why certainly Sam." He casually reached over and handed her the bowl. The problem was, that as soon as she took it with one hand she lost her grip on the turkey and it fell, with a sickening 'plop' back into the sink.

"Damn!" She set the bowl down and again lifted the turkey. How the hell was she going to do this with only two hands! You needed at least three.

"Need some help Carter?" he said in a saccharin sweet voice.

"No Sir. I can handle this just fine." Looking at it from a scientific perspective, she was determined to figure this out. She finally reached for a pot, sitting on the counter, which she jammed in to the sink. It forced the turkey to stand upright. She then took a spoonful of the stuffing and tried to carefully fill the cavity. Of course, most of it landed in the sink rather than in the bird!

"Crap! How the hell does one stuff a stupid bird?", she cried. Looking at her CO she added a lame, "Sir?"

"Carter, a little hint. Don't use a spoon."

"Not use a spoon? But what should I use then – my hands?" she laughed. When he didn't say anything she looked at him. "Really? I'm supposed to stuff the turkey with my hands? That's gross!"

"It's the best way Carter", he laughed. "I can't believe you've fought in wars, killed aliens and tended wounded soldiers and you find a turkey 'gross'. He obviously found this very funny!

"Fine! I'll do it." With a determined look she grabbed a handful of the gooey stuff and proceeded to fill the cold, slimy bird. Okay, she thought, this felt as bad as it looked.

After a couple of minutes the cavity was filled and she looked in triumph at her CO – or at least in as much triumph as you could with grease covered hands while in your pajamas.

"There – finished Sir!"

"Uh, you've got to tie it up."

"Tie it up? Why, is it going to escape?"

"Funny Captain! No, but the stuffing might. You have to attach the skin over the cavity so the stuff doesn't all fall out."

She sighed. This was a lot of work. She realized why her father always ordered pizza! She did have memories of earlier Thanksgivings, however, when her mother had been alive. They had always had turkey dinner but she didn't really want to think about that right now. It brought back too many bittersweet memories.

Fortunately, the Colonel showed her how to 'truss' the turkey, using little metal skewers and string. Wow, he'd really come prepared. What was even more surprising was how he knew what to do. This was something she never would have expected from him.

"Okay there! All done. I've just stuffed my first turkey."

"Ah sorry Carter – not quite done."

"What do you mean? It's all stuffed."

"Mmmm – no it's not."

"No? But where else can you stuff it?" She looked at the bird and it seemed to be as stuffed as it could get.

"Turn it over Carter."

"Turn it over? But that would be the …! Colonel!"

"No", he laughed, "it's not called the "Colonel" although I must say I've been compared to it a number of times!"

"Are you telling me I have to stuff the turkey's … ah …. hind end?"

"Hind end?" he laughed hard at this. "I gotta say, that's the first I've ever heard it called that – but yes Captain, you have to stuff the turkey's 'hind end'. Come on – go for it!"

Giving him a glare that had been known to slay System Lords she reached in and turned the carcass over. Yes, just like he'd said – there was another space just waiting to be filled. Grabbing another handful of the bread mixture she proceeded to fill that damn thing to the limit. She was gonna make sure this was the most 'stuffed' turkey ever.

"Take it easy Captain, the poor thing never did anything to you!" When he looked at her, and saw the glower she was giving him he winced.

"Uh – I guess you're not thinking of the turkey right now, are you?"

"No Sir."

"I don't suppose I should ask who you _**are**_ thinking about when you're jamming that stuff up it's 'hind end'?"

"No Sir."

"Yup. Didn't think so. Why don't you let me truss this up and get it in the oven? Then I'll get you to help with the sweet potatoes."

"I don't have to stuff anything with them do I Sir?"

"No Carter – no more 'stuffing' I promise."

As he put the turkey in the roaster and then fitted it into the oven he noticed that his 2IC was furiously washing her greasy hands in the sink. He couldn't keep himself from grinning as he pictured her forcefully stuffing the turkey. It would be a picture forever etched in his mind.

"Something funny Sir?"

Uh oh, his Captain was a little ticked off!

"No Carter, not at all. I'm just enjoyin' the day. Come on, you can peel the sweet potatoes. You do know how to peel don't you?"

"Yes, Sir, I know how to peel."

"Good. While you do that I'll get the pies going."

"Pies Colonel? You know how to bake pies?"

"Yup – Sara taught me a long time ago. We'd always prepare Thanksgiving Dinner together." The thought always brought a feeling of sadness to him – those were great times! The last couple of years Charlie had helped him, making it even more fun. One of the reasons he'd conned his team into coming with him this weekend was he really didn't want to be alone on the holiday. It was a family time and sitting alone watching TV would have been much too painful.

Sam glanced over at him as he said this and caught the expression on his face. Oh God, this must be hard for him, she thought. She had learned about his son and his divorce and knew that holidays must be the hardest thing to deal with. From being slightly irritated at her CO she realized that his kidding around and getting her to help was probably his way of trying to deal with the memories. All she could do was help – not just with the meal – but with taking his mind off things.

"So, what kind of pie Colonel?"

It took a moment for him to answer, so lost was he in his thoughts.

"Huh?" he looked at her.

"What kind of pies are you making?"

"Oh – lemon meringue and coconut cream pie."

She just stared at him for a moment. She didn't want to say anything but those seemed odd choices for Thanksgiving. It was then that she saw the slight gleam in his eye.

"Oh good Sir – those are my favorite. I was worried and thought you were going to say pumpkin or something." There! Back at ya O'Neill!

He looked a little panicked at this.

"Uh well – don't you like pumpkin?"

"Oh, it's okay I guess – but so predictable. Now, no one would ever think of having coconut cream pie for Thanksgiving. That shows a real level of innovation and creativity." Hah! Get out of this one Colonel!

But O'Neill wasn't born yesterday. His Captain _almost _had him for a moment there but her expression was just a little off. Think you can beat the master do you Carter!

"Yup – that's what I've always said. Thanksgiving calls for creativity! That's why I don't want to sit around and do the same old stuff most people do today – like sit around and talk and play games. Nope – today is a day for something different."

"Like what Sir?" she asked, a little worried now.

"Well, with all this food I thought we'd go for a hike. There's a great ten mile hike around the lake. It'll be great fun. A great way to spend time while the turkey's roasting."

She looked up at her CO – God, there was nothing she'd rather do less than go on a ten mile hike – especially in a storm.

"Isn't the weather too bad out?"

"No Captain – what's a little weather? We've dealt with worse."

"Yes, but not on a holiday." How could she get them out of this?

"I'd be fine just sitting around and resting Sir. I don't need to be 'creative' today – really!"

"Really – no 'creativity', no 'doing things differently?"

"No Sir – the same old is just fine with me."

"Oh good. Then in that case you won't mind that we're having pumpkin pie."

Silence.

"Captain?"

Silence.

"Uh Carter? Sam? Pumpkin?" Whoops – had he gone too far? Was she angry?

"I was just thinking about stuffing that... turkey ...Sir!" she refused to look at him.

"Uh yeah – turkey! Okay. So, how're the potatoes coming?"

"Fine, they're all done. What's next? I can help with the pies if you'd like. I do know how to bake."

"Great. I never like making the crust. I'm sorry about the pies Sam", he said, truly sorry if he'd offended her.

She gave him a big grin (God – she's beautiful, he thought, feeling quite stunned).

"That's okay Sir. It was quite funny really." She continued to smile at him and he realized, that she had, in fact 'got him'. He'd thought she was upset when, in fact, she'd enjoyed the whole thing. Man, he was in trouble. This was definitely a woman after his own heart!

For the next little while they worked quietly beside each other. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence at all. In fact, they worked well together. It shouldn't be a surprise, really. They worked extremely well in the field and had come to trust and rely on each other in dangerous situations. The fact that they worked well in a more mundane setting was simply a continuation of that.

When everything was as prepared as it could be to this point (they'd have to wait until much later to actually cook the rest) both of them collapsed on the sofa in the small living room.

"Geesh. I never knew how much work a turkey dinner was. No wonder my Dad never attempted it."

"Yeah – it's a lot of work – but worth it in the end. The nice part of it is that we'll make Daniel and Teal'c do all the cleaning up since they didn't help with the preparation."

"Good idea. I can hardly wait to see Teal'c in a little frilly apron. I wonder if Jaffa can get 'dish pan hands' or does the larval goa'uld prevent that?"

"Now I gotta say, Carter, that's something that's never crossed my mind. It's something we can ask him though. Hey, Daniel – you're finally risen from the dead." He turned and looked toward the younger man who stumbled out of his room looking like he'd just gone twenty rounds with Ra.

"Morning", he grunted, heading directly to the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"It's on the stove Daniel. It's from this morning but should still be okay. There's cream in the fridge.

"Hmmmmm", he grunted again. Daniel in the morning, 'pre-coffee' was always a site to behold. He poured himself a cup and drank it down quickly. He then poured another cup and moved into the living room where he sat in the big, stuffed armchair.

"Have a good sleep?" Jack asked.

"Yeah – what time is it?"

"It's 12:00 - time for lunch."

'Lunch? I haven't had breakfast yet."

"Okay, so have breakfast then. No one's stopping you."

"What is there?"

"The usual – cereal, toast, eggs, bacon. You can make some pancakes if you want. I brought all the fixings."

"Wow Sir, you really came prepared."

"Hey one of the best things about going to the mountains in the winter is having good food. I get sick of MRE's and pizza. So, I brought good stuff."

"Hey, what smells Jack?" Daniel just realized that something was smelling quite good. He looked over at the kitchen and noticed, for the first time, the mess of dishes.

"Whatchya makin'?" he asked.

"Jack is making Turkey Dinner, Daniel – for Thanksgiving."

"Really Jack? I didn't know you could cook."

"Lot's you don't know about me Daniel."

"Yeah – that I know! But turkey dinner – wow!"

"Hey, it wasn't just me. Sam helped."

"She did?" he looked over at his colleague in wonderment. "I didn't know Sam could cook either."

"I can't. The Colonel taught me."

"Yes, and she's a natural Daniel. You should see her stuff a turkey's hind end!"

"Sir!" she choked, glaring at him.

"You stuffed _**what**_?"

"Jack taught me to stuff a turkey. Did you know you have to stuff _**both**_ ends Daniel?"

"Uh no – can't say as I did."

"You two are incredible. I've never met two smarter people who are more clueless! Next year I'm leaving the whole thing to you Carter and Daniel can help! Well, I for one am going to get dressed and go out and see what's going on. Go fix yourself some breakfast or lunch or whatever Daniel. Carter – thanks for your help. That was fun!"

"Yes Sir, it was", she smiled at her CO as he walked towards his room. She meant it. It had been great fun. In fact, she didn't remember having such a great time since – God, she couldn't remember when. Who woulda thought? Jack O'Neill was a man of many surprises.

After Jack had left Daniel just stared at her for a moment.

"What?" she said, looking at him crossly.

"Nothing." He answered

"Then what are you staring at?"

"Uh – just can't get over the picture of you and Jack cooking together. It seems very – domestic."

"We were just two teammates having some down time. Nothing to worry about Daniel!"

"Hey, I wasn't worried. I think it's kind of nice. By the way, are we having pumpkin pie by any chance? It's my favorite."

He looked over at Sam and was surprised by the soft look on her face. She was thinking about something that obviously pleased her.

"Yeah", she answered softly, "we're having pumpkin pie."


	3. Visitors

_**All right, as much as I was enjoying the light mood I did promise whump and adventure (although I promise I'll bring back some fluffier stuff soon). I'm also going to do some more of my Family series as well. I hope you enjoy and thanks for all the great reviews and alerting!**_

It had been a great day! They had feasted on turkey and all the trimmings, just like Jack had planned. By the time they'd finished the pumpkin pie and whipped cream Sam figured she was about ready to burst

"That was fantastic Sir", she groaned.

"You helped Carter. Couldna done it without you."

"Oh, I don't know about that Colonel. I think you had it pretty much under control, but thank you anyway. Man, I think I need some exercise – either that or I need to go to bed!"

"Yes, I feel the need to get some exercise as well Captain Carter. I have never experienced a traditional Earth 'Thanksgiving' before. I especially liked the 'stuffing'. It was very good but very filling."

Jack laughed. "That's because it was the 'Carter special stuffing', right Sam?"

"Yes Sir. I'll never forget that recipe."

"Especially where to put it."

Grinning, she threw a napkin at her CO. "I definitely know where to put it Sir."

"Careful Captain – I think you're bordering on a court marshalable offense."

"I'm sure they'd say there were extenuating circumstances Colonel."

"Well, while you two are discussing stuffing, I for one plan to get some exercise. Anyone for a walk?" asked Daniel.

"Is it still snowing?" she asked Daniel, who stood up and went to the window.

"Nope, looks like it's stopped. Snow seems pretty deep though. It may be difficult to walk."

"Instead of a walk I challenge you all to a snowball fight!" Jack stood up and walked over to the door where their coats and boots were. The others followed and quickly donned their winter gear.

"What is a 'snowball' fight O'Neill? I thought we were here to relax. I did not think we were going to have to fight."

"Ah – but this is a 'fun' fight Teal'c. You can be on my team and I'll show you what to do."

"Hey, that's unfair Jack! You two are the soldiers – Sam and I won't have a chance."

"Daniel – I'm a soldier too you know! I'm not afraid of the Colonel or Teal'c. We'll do just fine. Remember, I grew up with a brother. I know snowball fights!" She quickly ran out into the snow and bent over and began to make snowballs. Before Jack had even explained to Teal'c what it was all about he'd received one right in the face.

"Aaargh! Whoa Carter – you're gonna get it now!" he yelled, wiping off his snow covered face. Bending over he made a big snowball and went to throw it at Sam but she turned and ran.

"Running away Captain? Coward!"

"You know what they say about 'discretion and valor" Sir", she called as she tried to run in the deep snow."

"Hey – be careful there Carter!" he shouted. "There's a sharp drop over to the side of the property. Don't fall."

Looking ahead, Sam realized he was right. About 30 feet in front of the cabin was a steep drop. It made for great views – at least it would when the sun was shining – but it would be terribly dangerous to fall over. Coming to a quick stop Sam looked around. Uh oh, she was trapped!

"So Captain – think you'll get away with hitting your CO in the face do ya?"

"It was just snow Sir."

"_**Just**_ snow? Well then, you won't mind if I return the favor." He advanced slowly on her position. Just as he was ready to lob the snowball at her he felt another one slam into him – this time in the neck.

"Hey – what the – " Turning around he saw Daniel standing a few feet away, grinning at him.

"Teamwork Jack!"

"Teal'c! Where are you when I need you buddy?" He looked around to see where his partner was and saw him making snowballs back by the house.

"I am gathering artillery O'Neill. It is best to be prepared."

"Yeah – preparation is good, but so is protecting your men. Come on, you get Daniel while I get Sam."

With that, the fight was on. In the end Jack and Teal'c were 'victorious' although they ended up just about as wet as their two younger teammates. Laughing, the four finally called it quits and headed back into the cabin. It was starting to grow dark and they were all chilled.

"That was very amusing O'Neill. Your 'Thanksgiving' is a very pleasurable holiday."

"That it is Teal'c, that it is." Once they'd all shaken off the snow and ice and had stripped off their winter gear, they each went into their rooms and changed into dry clothing. When Jack finally returned he saw that Sam and Daniel were in the kitchen.

"Hot cocoa coming right up." called Daniel "Just sit down Jack – you've done most of the work today. I'll handle the snacks."

"Thanks Daniel. Oh, there are some cookies in the cupboard in case anyone is hungry."

"I did not believe I would be hungry for a very long time, O'Neill, after the Thanksgiving feast. However, I find myself desiring something to eat."

"Oh yeah – snowball fights will do it to you every time."

The friends sat drinking their cocoa and munching on cookies, each contemplating the day. Little did each of them know, but they were all thinking much the same thing – and that was how lucky they were to have found each other. Coming together in the most unlikely of circumstances, their friendship had filled a hole in each of their hearts.

As Jack sat quietly, he suddenly started to think back to past Thanksgivings. The last few years had been hard and he'd tried to ignore the holidays as much as possible. They were the most painful part of the year, except of course for Charlie's birthday and the anniversary of his death. This year had been different, but now he could feel the melancholy start to seep in. He remembered the last Christmas they'd shared together. Thanksgiving had been too warm but he and his family had spent Christmas in a similar way. He remembered Sara and Charlie ganging up on him and covering him with snow. He could easily have taken them both down, but let them win – knowing how much they enjoyed getting him.

Suddenly, as the memories came flooding back, he knew he had to get out of the house – away from his friends. He didn't want to spoil their mood with his dark feelings. Standing up he quickly walked to the door.

"I'm going for a little walk. I'll be back in a while."

"But Jack – we just came in. It's getting cold out." Daniel looked at his friend in confusion.

"I know Daniel – I just need to – "

"Come on Jack – let's play a game or something."

"I don't want to play a game – I'm going for a walk."

"Jack –"

"Daniel – let the Colonel go for a walk. Come on, I'll play a game of cards with you. You up for it Teal'c?" Sam had seen the expression on O'Neill's face and guessed something of what he was feeling. She realized he needed a bit of space. Knowing him, he'd brood for a while and then return with a quip, hiding his true feelings. At least most of the day had been good for him. She looked at Daniel and gave him a frown, trying to clue him in.

"Oh, okay Jack. Just watch yourself. It's getting dark."

"Yes Mommy, I know." Jack had donned his damp coat and boots and quickly let the cabin, softly closing the door behind him.

"What was that all about?"

"O'Neill is finding the day difficult, Daniel Jackson. It reminds him of what he's lost."

"Oh God – I didn't realize. He seemed so happy all day that I forgot. I can't believe I was such an idiot!"

"Don't worry, I think he did enjoy the day. I think he just started thinking about things when we got inside. He needs a bit of space is all." It amazed her how much she was getting to understand her CO after working alongside him the last couple of years. She knew that those few days in Antarctica had really opened her eyes to what a deep and conflicted soul lay at the heart of Jack O'Neill. To many he appeared a simple – and sometimes less than bright – man, but she knew better. He was a man of great feeling and great intelligence but one who had suffered too much in his life. If all they could do was give him his space, then she would make damn sure he'd get it.

Sitting at the table Teal'c dealt out the cards for a rousing game of Crazy Eights.

Jack walked out of the cabin and turned a sharp right. He'd been here before and knew his way around. He also knew that he had to be careful – there were some treacherous paths where you could fall and really get hurt.

After walking for 10 minutes or so he stopped and looked up at the moon, which had finally come out after the storm. The clearing sky meant it was going to be a cold night – but it was certainly beautiful, spreading a soft, golden light over the velvet landscape. Taking a deep breath he tried to let the peace of the day fill him and take away the sharp piercing pain from a wound not healed.

"Charlie", he spoke softly, "I hope you had a good Thanksgiving. I miss you son. I wish you were here throwing snowballs at me. I love you." He stood for another few minutes, wishing he could feel something – some sense that his son heard him – or that his son forgave him – although he didn't expect it to happen. What he'd done was unforgivable. With a deep sigh he turned and headed back to the cabin.

****

"Is this the place?" Beiman asked. They'd been traveling for hours and he was exhausted.

"I sure to God hope so. I didn't think we were going to make it there for a while", Copeland answered. He was a man in his forties with gray hair and distinguished features. He looked like he could be a college professor.

"Ah, quit your complaining you two. Just be glad we've got a place to hang out. Nobody'll find us here." Hall was a big man, rough looking. He and Beiman looked incongruous beside the more sophisticated Copeland.

"What about the man who lives here?"

"O'Reilly? Nah, he's staying in Denver for the holidays. He's got a wife and kids and they don't like to come up here at this time of year." Hall answered as he carefully drove the car towards the cabin.

"Are you sure? How do you know?" Copeland was worried that they'd be discovered.

"Cause I talked to him. Him and me, we're old Air Force buddies. I stopped by and visited him the other day."

"Yeah", laughed Beiman. "That was fun! You and he must have been close. He couldn't get you out of his house fast enough."

Hall smirked. "What can I say – we had a few run-ins in the Gulf. He was a real pansy! I knew how to take care of myself and he didn't like that."

"Probably caught you doin' something illegal!" quipped Beiman. He knew what kind of man his companion was.

"Well, I hate to tell you this Mr. Hall, but you must've got your story wrong. There's someone at the cabin." Copeland was looking ahead and could see the lights shining through the trees. It had just gotten dark so it was clear that someone was, in fact, there.

"Shit! He told me he wasn't going to come up here this year. What the hell is he doing?" Hall slammed his hand on the steering wheel and came to a stop. Turning out the lights on the car he sat for a moment, contemplating what to do.

"I say we turn around and go back to that little coffee shop we saw. Maybe we can find someplace else to hide out." Copeland really didn't like this. He was very afraid of what his companions might do.

"Nah – we can't go back. I say we're here now so let's go ahead and find out what's going on. It may be that O'Reilly's lent it out to someone else. I doubt there's phone service here so we can just pretend we got lost. With what the weather report says we're do for another storm by early morning. It may be days before we can get out – that'll give us enough time for the search to die down a bit. Then we can head south towards the border."

"What if it is O'Reilly?" asked the 'professor'.

Dead silence greeted his question. It spoke volumes.

What have I gotten myself into, he thought. I didn't want this.

Hall killed the motor on the car and zipped up his jacket. Pulling up his hood he reached down beside his seat and grabbed his gun. Turning to Beiman, who was sitting in the front seat beside him, he motioned for him to open his door.

"Come on – let's see what's up. Copeland, you sit tight. We'll be back to get you in a minute."

"Don't hurt anyone! I don't want that."

"What you want doesn't really matter. You were the one who started this whole thing so don't go chicken on us now. You're in this as thick as we are – thicker - so just shut up and do what you're told and maybe we'll all get out of this." Nodding at Beiman he opened the driver's door and got out.

Both men left their doors slightly ajar, not wanting to make any more noise than they had to as sound traveled far on cold clear nights like tonight. They quietly walked through the trees to the cabin.

Hall grabbed Beiman's arm and stopped him. As the other man looked at him he pointed to a figure they could see approaching the cabin from the other side.

"Shh – someone's there." He whispered. He watched the man approach and then stop and look up.

"Holy Crap! I can't believe it!" Hall murmured. The light of the moon had illuminated the man's face.

"Who is it?" Beiman whispered back.

"Trouble! That's Major Jack O'Neill – I knew him in the Gulf. He's one ornery, but very smart bastard. He'll catch on real quick."

"So what we gonna do?" the other man asked worriedly.

"We're gonna get rid of him. Yeah – it makes sense. He and O'Reilly were friends. O'Neill helped him out of a few tough spots."

"Why didn't he say anything to you about O'Neill."

Hall laughed. "Oh, he would know enough not to say anything about this guy to me. He knew I hated O'Neill"

"Why?"

"Let's just say that O'Neill caused me some grief. Come on, it's time to return the favor. Be quiet now – the man has hearing like a wolf."

Fortunately for the two, Jack was distracted by his thoughts – and by the sound of the breeze rustling through the pines. He wasn't expecting any one to be around anyway. If he'd been on another planet, or on a mission, he never would have been so careless.

Hall motioned for Beiman to walk around the side and come up behind O'Neill. He then sauntered up towards his former acquaintance.

"Heya O'Neill. Long time no see."

"Wha …!" O'Neill started and looked towards the voice. A face long since forgotten – and thoroughly detested – appeared in front of him.

"What the hell! What're you doin' here Hall?" He was confused to see this man, whom he hadn't seen since the prison in Iraq, suddenly appear out of the night.

"Oh, didn't Jim tell you? He told me I could use the cabin any time I was up here. Thought it would be a good time to get away for awhile."

"Hall, ain't no way in hell Jim O'Reilly would let you use his place. What's the real story?"

"Well – I guess the real story is that you're in my way – again – O'Neill and I'm kinda tired of that. You see, I really wanted to use the cabin tonight and there isn't room for both of us!" Jack started to answer when a sharp pain exploded in the back of his head and he knew no more.

"There! I just wish it'd been me to do that O'Neill." Looking up at his partner who was holding a stout branch, he grinned.

"Now what Aaron? What we gonna do with him?"

Hall looked around. Burying him in the snow would be easy but, unless he was dead, he'd simply come back. The Major had a tendency to do that! He noticed something a few feet away and walked towards it. Looking over the edge he saw a steep hill down the side of the mountain.

"Pull him over here. We can drop him over the edge. I doubt he'll survive and if he does he'll be too banged up to do anything. By then we'll be gone." He walked over and helped Beiman pull Jack's body to the edge.

"Why don't we just kill him?", asked the other man.

"That'd be too quick. I like this better." As they reached the edge Hall spoke again. "Leave him. This pleasure's mine." With that he kicked O'Neill in the side as hard as he could. He then pushed him off with his foot. The two men watched as his body bounced down the side of the steep hill, crashing into bushes and rocks. It finally came to a crumpled rest at the bottom.

"See ya O'Neill – maybe in hell!" laughing he turned back towards the cabin.

"Ya think he was alone?" Beiman asked.

"Nah – he had a family. They're probably there with him."

"What? Won't they notice he's missing?"

"Probably, but what are a woman and kid going to do? Come on, let's clean up the evidence here and then go see." Taking a large pine branch, still covered with needles, they moved it back and forth over the ground, removing the evidence of having pulled a body across the ground. When finished they threw the branch into the woods and walked to the cabin.

"Why's the Colonel knocking? The door's open isn't it?" asked Daniel who held a hand of cards.

"Yeah, I think so." As the knocking started again Daniel sighed and threw down his hand, stood up and walked to the door.

"Hey Jack – can't you open the door?" He pulled it open and was startled to see two strangers standing there.

"Who are you?" he asked, completely surprised.

"Uh, my name's Aaron Hall and this is Doug Beiman. Another friend of ours, Bob Copeland is in the car. We came up here to stay at Jim's cabin. He told us we could use it anytime. We didn't know anyone else was here."

"Oh. Well, yeah – we're staying here. My friend Jack is a friend of Jim's and he arranged for us to use it for the holidays."

"Damn, I knew I should have checked. Jim wasn't around – went away to the in-laws I guess. I didn't think anyone else would be here at this time of year. Uh – would you mind if we came in for a bit. It's cold and we've traveled a long way. I guess we'll have to head back but I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee if we could presume?"

"Oh, sure, come on in." Daniel opened the door wider and let the man – Hall – come in.

"I'll just go get Copeland", the other man – Beiman – said. Turning he quickly walked towards the car.

"Who is it Daniel?" A gorgeous blond came to the door. Wow, was this O'Neill's wife? She seemed rather young.

"Hi Ma'am. I'm a friend of Jim O'Reilly's. Made a mistake – didn't realize he had lent the cabin out to someone else. That's what you'll get for not checking!"

The blond frowned, looking unconvinced at his story. He looked beyond her and saw a very large, black man with a strange tattoo on his forehead, sitting at a table. They'd obviously been playing cards.

"Just the three of you up here?" he asked

"Ah no. We're with a friend", Daniel answered. "I'm surprised you didn't see him – he went out for a walk."

"In the cold? No, I didn't see him." Hall was looking around the room and all seemed quite innocent. It looked like a few friends up for a weekend trip – no kid though, and that was good. Beiman and Copeland both might have had some trouble getting rid of a kid. Actually, Copeland would have trouble getting rid of anyone, he laughed to himself.

"Well, come on in. I'll get you some coffee. Just hang your coat there. So, you're a friend of Jim's. How'd you know him?" The man was a little suspicious as well, thought Hall.

"Oh, we were in the Air Force together – over in the Gulf."

"Really? What unit were you with? I was there as well", said the woman. Now that was a surprise. He never would have thought that this gorgeous woman was in the AF. Maybe she was a nurse or something.

"I was with the 152nd. "

"Was O'Reilly in your unit?"

"No, got to know him in prison. We were both captured by the Iraqis. It wasn't an experience I'd like to repeat believe me. But, it makes for some close friends – that's why Jim offered to let me use the cabin anytime."

Just then his two companions arrived so the conversation stopped, although Sam and Daniel exchanged a look. They both wondered if this man knew Jack. And speaking of the Colonel, where was he? Sam began to get worried.

"Murray, do you think you could go find the Colonel? He'll want to meet our guests."

"Yes,. I'll go now and find him." Teal'c stood and got his coat on and his boots. He then left the cabin. He hadn't said anything but he too was worried. Something was 'off' although he couldn't tell what it was.

"Colonel?" asked Hall. So O'Neill had stayed with the Air Force. Too bad.

"Yes, Colonel Jack O'Neill. Did you happen to know him in Iraq?"

"Jack? Yeah – knew him well. He was a great guy. The guards hated him though – put him through hell." That was one of the good things about prison, he thought. Of course, he'd helped the guards as much as he could!

"So he's here too. It'll be nice to see him again – compare old times. Oh – this here's Bob Copeland. I'm sorry, I didn't get your names?"

"Hello, I'm Samantha Carter and this is Dr. Daniel Jackson. The man who just left is Murray Teelk. We all work together at Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado Springs."

"You're all with the Air Force?" he asked. This could be bad.

"No. Sam's a Captain with the Air Force and Jack of course is a Colonel, but Murray and I are civilians. Here – did you want some coffee?" As he'd been listening to the conversation he's been making another pot. Like Teal'c he felt there was something wrong here. He didn't trust Hall or his companions.

"Thank you. That would be very good", answered the one called Bob. He walked over and took a cup. His companions followed. Once they all had their coffees they were invited to sit at the table.

"I'm sorry for the imposition. We didn't know anyone would be here otherwise we wouldn't have come."

"So", asked Sam, "are you friends or do you work together?" Like her teammates she knew something was wrong. She just hoped the Colonel had seen something and was watching. With Teal'c out there as well she felt relatively safe. She just wished she had a weapon – a zat would be nice!

"Bob and Doug work together. I'm a friend of Doug's. We're all off for the long-weekend and decided to get away from the rat race."

"Oh, where do you work?" she asked, turning to the two other men.

"Hey, this is good coffee!" Hall interjected. "We wanted to stop but that little coffee shop was closed for the holiday. We'd hoped to get here sooner but it was a stormy day – took a long time."

"Yeah – kind of a bad day to travel. I would have thought you would have stayed back in Denver."

Beiman laughed. "When Aaron wants to do something you can't stop him."

Just then the door opened and Teal'c rushed in. Both Sam and Daniel looked at him with concern.

"Come quickly. O'Neill is in trouble."

"What? What happened T – Murray?" Daniel asked as he hurried to the door.

"He has fallen off the cliff. I saw his body down below. I do not know if he is alive."

Sam let out a small sob. No! This couldn't be happening. She made her way to the door after Daniel.

"Stop!" Hall's commanding voice came from behind.

"Our friend is hurt." Daniel turned to them to explain but did stop dead when he saw the gun pointed at him.

"Sam, Teal'c, I think we're in trouble." His two friends looked over and saw that both Hall and Beiman had their weapons drawn, pointing at them.

"You're not friends of O'Reilly's are you?" Sam asked.

"Oh yeah – Jim and I go way back. So do O'Neill and I. I'm afraid Jackie boy wouldn't have wanted us to stay though – so unfortunately we had to get rid of him. Come on, move it. All of you get in here and keep your hands up."

"That's kind of clichéd isn't it?" asked Daniel. In reality he was terrified that Jack was dead but found himself channeling his friend.

"It may be clichéd Dr. Jackson, but I assure you, the bullets are real. All of you, sit where I can see you. Beiman, start with the big man – tie him up – tightly! Mr. Murray – if you make a move the woman here gets a bullet in the head."

"Oh come now Hall – you don't need to threaten them. I'm sure they'll cooperate." Copeland was sweating. He so didn't want this.

"You shut up professor and let us handle this, unless you'd like to join them?"

"No." he sat back quietly. No one had ever accused Bob Copeland of being brave!

After Beiman had tied Teal'c to the chair (both arms and legs) he started on Daniel. Finally, he got to Carter.

"This'll be fun!" he grabbed the woman, thinking she'd be easy. The next thing he knew he lay groaning on the floor, holding his crotch.

"Nice, but you'd better stop or I'll have to shoot you." Hall watched the woman in admiration. Yeah – this must be O'Neill's woman. She was just his type.

"Now, you're all going to sit tight and don't say a word. Come on. Let's see if there's any food. I don't know about you two but I'm hungry." Putting his gun in the waist of his pants he walked over and opened the fridge.

"Whew", he whistled. "Jackpot!" he laughed, thinking that was rather funny. "Looks like you guys had a feast. Unfortunately, I don't think they'll be any leftovers." Pulling the various dishes out of the fridge the three men proceeded to eat the leftover turkey dinner. Sam, Daniel and Teal'c all looked on – worried about what was going to happen – but even more concerned about the Colonel. They all prayed he was alive.

****

He was – just. He woke to cold – freezing cold in every part of his body. Crap, was he back in Antarctica? He couldn't remember where he was for a minute. It was when his mind got beyond the cold that he realized he wasn't just freezing, he was in pain.

He gasped, which was a mistake as that got him to coughing. Oh God, not again. The stabbing pain in his chest gave evidence to more cracked or broken ribs. The shortness of breath probably also meant more internal injuries.

"Okay O'Neill, don't just lie here unless you want to freeze to death." Still unsure as to what had happened, he was aware enough to know he had to get to shelter. The first thing, of course, was to get on his feet.

He rolled over to his side – or at least he tried. The attempt almost made him pass out. Shit! This was more than broken ribs. It was so bad, he couldn't even tell where he was hurt – the pain seemed to radiate throughout his whole body.

This time he tried, much more slowly, to roll so that he could get onto his hands and knees and then stand. That would have been fine except for two things. One, the movement made spots appear before his eyes and almost caused him to pass out, Two, he discovered there was something seriously wrong with his legs. He couldn't seem to move them. As he lay back, panting, the realization came to him that he may have broken his back!

He lay there, in pain and worried sick, when he started to remember. Lieutenant Aaron Hall! That bastard. He couldn't believe the man had shown up here. He'd been responsible for a lot of what Jack had suffered in Iraq and now he'd returned to haunt him. What worried him the most was what the man would do to his team. Hall was a master of lies and had no conscience. Who knew what he'd told the others or what he was planning to do to them. Somehow he had to get to the cabin. How to do that with the shape he was in he didn't know.

"Come on – you can do it." This time he moved his upper body as slowly as he could and tried to roll onto his stomach. The pain again shot through him although his lower body was beginning to grow numb. He knew this was a bad sign although it would make it easier for him to move. He couldn't worry about himself right now. His friend's lives were at stake.

After what seemed like forever he managed to get himself on his side. The dizziness became intense and he felt himself become nauseous. Before he had a chance to utter 'oh crap', he was heaving. There goes my turkey dinner, he thought.

The agony of throwing up while you had broken ribs and God knew what other internal injuries was indescribable. Before long he'd passed out. Fortunately, he was lying in a position so as not to choke although his head collapsed into the snow where he'd just vomited.

After a few minutes consciousness returned along with pain and the intense cold. Added to this was the stench. Euw – he woke up with his face covered in it. Reaching up he tried to wipe his face using some snow. As his hand touched his face he jerked back – damn, he had cuts there as well which stung like the very devil.

"I must look a sight", he muttered. Trying to keep his spirits up enough to that he'd keep moving and not give up he tried again to turn himself over. The cold was beginning to deaden the pain somewhat but was also making him feel more sluggish (unless that was from blood loss, a concussion or hypothermia he thought). Finally, after much trying and gasping, he got himself onto his stomach.

"This has got to be great for broken ribs! Come on Jack – let's go." He looked up briefly at the steep hill in front of him and let his head fall to the ground. He couldn't do it. There was no way he'd make it up this hill with only his arms pulling him. He started to let himself drift, so tired, so worn out. Something, at the last minute – the thought of Daniel or Sam or Teal'c – or maybe all three – pulled him back.

"Come on – don't be a wimp O'Neill! Remember your old Sergeant – he woulda wupped your tail for giving up.

With the thought of Sergeant Ramirez in the back of his mind he reached out and began to pull himself along the ground, his legs dead weights behind him.

"I'm comin' guys – I'm comin."

Sam looked up suddenly. She felt an awareness of something, what she didn't know, come over her. Glancing over at Daniel and Teal'c she saw that they too were looking startled. They looked at each other and Teal'c nodded slightly. Yes – O'Neill was alive and he was coming.


	4. Reach, Grab, Pull

_**A short one tonight everyone. I'm sorry, I was really tired. Thank you to my reviewers. It's especially nice to receive reviews from those who have followed me and faithfully reviewed as well as new people. I love hearing from all of you!**_

Reach, grab, pull. That's all he was focusing on. He refused to look up, to see how far he'd gotten. All he knew was that he had to keep going, he had to reach the top, his team needed him.

The agony was indescribable – so bad that the only way he could continue was to tuck it into a part of his mind that he closed off to everything else. Reach, grab, pull - reach, grab, pull. He developed a rhythm that kept him focused and kept him moving.

After a while the rhythm became almost hypnotic and the pain seemed to subside a bit. His mind then began to wander, moving from one scene to the next. He started thinking about his time in the Gulf when his parachute hadn't opened. Similar, but hot, not cold.

"Wonder which is worse", he thought through the fog that surrounded his brain. "Which do I hate more – freezing my balls off or turning into a dried out husk? Hmmm – right now O'Neill, a desert sounds mighty fine so I'll have to say I'd prefer to be hot." He laughed softly to himself. "Why couldn't you get in trouble in Hawaii or something Jack? No – you always pick the worst places. Got to plan this better next time."

Reach, grab, pull – he was getting closer but he still refused to look at where he was. By now the pain had almost disappeared. It was a great relief but somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew this was not a good thing. Pain was your body's way of telling you to get help. No pain meant the body was starting to shut down. Probably dying, he thought – but the fog had gotten thicker and he felt detached. It's not like he wanted to die – just that he really couldn't care one way or the other.

"Hey maybe I'll get to see you Charlie", he muttered. Then the thought came quickly – nah, with his luck God wouldn't let him see his son. He didn't deserve to after what he'd done. That did bring a pang, but not nearly as bad as it usually did.

Reach, grab, ….. uh oh! Whatever he'd grabbed pulled loose from the side of the hill and he began to slip down.

"Aaaargh! Damn. Okay that hurt!" So, there was still pain – probably a good thing. The sudden and quick drop – fortunately only a few inches – brought him back to the present.

"Not good O'Neill – much better not to know what's going on." He gasped to himself. He was getting weaker. He felt dizzy and spots kept swimming in front of his eyes, even when they were closed. It was becoming harder and harder to breath, which made mountain climbing damn difficult.

He stopped and this time looked up. God, he'd only come a short way. The bright moon was illuminating the side of the hill and he saw that he had a long way to go before he reached the top.

"I can't", he cried to himself – or maybe to God. "I can't do it anymore. Enough already. How much more do you want me to do? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He was sobbing, his face buried into the side of the mountain. The pain, trying to do the impossible, to atone was getting too much. His soul was heavy, too heavy.

He lay there quietly, his body shivering with cold and pain, his face wet with blood and with tears. Maybe now was the time to give up. Maybe this was one too many things to ask of him.

He looked up, taking one last look around. This earth was still beautiful, he thought. He still loved it but he couldn't do anymore. Now was the time to say goodbye. Avoiding thinking about his friends, he laid his head down, closed his eyes, and slept, hopefully never to awaken.

"So, you guys are friend of Major O'Neill are ya?" the one called Hall asked as he finished his last bite of turkey dinner.

"It's Colonel O'Neill", answered Carter, "and yes, we're friends."

"Oh, too bad. You're probably feeling real sad now that he's dead."

Sam didn't even blink at Hall when he said this. She didn't look at her teammates either but could tell what they were thinking. They all knew Jack and knew that he was alive and that he'd never give up.

"You are a fool Aaron Hall. You do not know O'Neill." Teal'c answered for them all. Yeah, you go Teal'c, she thought.

"You're callin' me a fool? Look who are the ones tied up here. And you're wrong, I know O'Neill real well. Didn't he ever mention me?"

"No, Jack tends not to talk about meaningless things." You go too Daniel! She was proud of her team.

Hall just laughed. "You all think you're so smart don't you. Well, go ahead and insult me – it won't do you any good." He got up and walked to the window. Pulling the curtains aside he looked out for a moment.

"Looks like it may be starting to cloud over. Snow'll be here before long."

"How long do you think we will be trapped here?", asked Copeland.

"No more than a couple of days. We can use O'Neill's truck to get out. I'm sure it's a four wheel drive if I know him. He always said he wanted to buy one when he got out. He told us he liked to go into the mountains and go fishin. I bet he wishes he hadn't bought that truck now!"

"You're a pig Hall. Jack O'Neill is ten times the man you'll ever be." Daniel couldn't hold on to his temper any longer. He was worried about his friend. If Jack had been okay he would have done something by now.

"Really. You think so do you. He must've never told you about his time in Iraq. Hey, we have some time and you guys are a captive audience", he laughed to himself. Doug grinned as well but the others, including Copeland, all looked disgusted.

"We really don't want to hear anything you have to say. Why don't you just talk to your criminal friends and leave us alone."

"Nah, what would be the fun of that? Hey Copeland, make some coffee. I'll get thirsty telling my little tale of Jackie Boy."

"Come on Aaron – leave them alone. What difference does it make? They don't want to hear it and frankly neither do I."

"Shut up Copeland! Keep your God-damned mouth closed. This isn't your operation any more and I don't have to listen to your sniveling. Just make the coffee."

Bob looked apologetically at the three captives and made his way to the kitchen. Sam knew he wouldn't be any help to them.

"So, back to my story. Let me see? When did I first meet good ole Major – yeah, yeah, I know he's a Colonel but he was major when I knew him. I guess it was the day they brought him to the prison. I'd been there for a coupla weeks – wasn't a bad gig actually. It got me outta the fighting and if you knew how to work it right the guards didn't treat you too bad. That was something O'Neill never learned."

"We do not wish to listen to your lies Aaron Hall. Please desist." Teal'c gave him the Jaffa death glare but unfortunately it lacked sufficient power tonight to do what it intended. Hall was still standing.

"You 'desist' you freak or I'll gag you. Now, to continue from where I was so rudely interrupted – O'Neill was brought in a couple of weeks after me. They brought him in on a stretcher cause he'd been hurt – shot I think. He was unconscious, although that quickly changed", he smirked. "We all watched it from the courtyard where we'd been taken for our 'afternoon stroll'. They threw a bucket of cold water over him and brought him around. He was the most senior officer they'd captured and they wanted information from him."

"They did not know Jack." Daniel had a faint grin on his face. Jack facing his enemies was kinda like the 'irresistible force meeting the immovable object."

"No, they didn't know Jack. But you know what, I think they were glad, in the long run, that he wouldn't talk. Gave them a lot more fun."

The silence in the room could have been cut with a knife. The three teammates didn't even want to contemplate what he was saying. They'd known, from what Frank had said, that Jack was tortured but they'd all avoided thinking about it since they'd been at the cabin.

"Jack ever describe Iraqi torture techniques? No. Too bad. They were quite interesting. He should know better than most. Yeah – I remember him screaming pretty loud. It was very irritating, made it hard to sleep. I bet you thought O'Neill was brave – that he wouldn't make a noise. Stiff upper lip and all that. Sorry to disappoint. He screamed and cried like a baby. We all heard it. Just ask O'Reilly if you don't believe me."

"We wouldn't care. Bravery has nothing to do with being silent when you're tortured. That's just something out of Hollywood." Sam spoke calmly although inside her gut was churning. She knew what she said was true but still, the thought of the Colonel being in that much pain was horrific.

"Why, aren't you the little supportive woman. You screwing the Colonel? You look like his type."

"Screw yourself Hall!" she answered calmly

"Not nearly as much fun Captain. Maybe you'd like to join me."

"Enough Aaron. Leave her alone."

Hall laughed again and decided to get on with his story – although the woman did hold some possibilities.

"So the Iraqis tortured Jacko for a few days. I think their favorite was the electric wires – or maybe it was the whips."

"Stop it! For God sakes, what is wrong with you? Just shut the hell up." Copeland was standing up, looking wild.

Hall stood up and faced him. "Don't you tell me to shut up."

"Why not? Are you going to kill me too? Then you won't get your money will you? Just shut up. None of us want to listen to your lies." He sat back down, looking exhausted at his outburst.

Hall stood staring at him for a moment longer. He so wanted to kill this man but he was right – first he wanted his money, then he'd kill him. He turned back and looked at the three people tied to their chairs. He still wanted to have some fun.

"Good old Bob doesn't want to hear about prison life. Well then, let me just tell you this. Jack O'Neill screwed with me in prison but I got him back good. I made sure the guards screwed with him plenty. It wasn't enough though. He got out and was honored as a bloody hero – I was dishonorably discharged and got squat. I had the last laugh though. When I pushed him over the edge of that hill I watched him bounce all the way down. If he's not dead he's wishing he was."

"You know, I've often felt the Air Force does a number of stupid things", Daniel looked up at the man speaking, "but in this case I think they got it just right. Jack is a hero – and you – well a dishonorable discharge wasn't nearly enough."

"On Chulak they would have emasculated him for betraying a comrade." Teal'c added.

"Chulak's sounding pretty good about now Murray." Sam spoke up.

"Yes, Captain. I think you would like some of the other things they do to people such as this one."

"Yeah – I bet I would."

"SHUT UP!" Hall screamed. Beiman was laughing, enjoying the show. He loved to see Hall get his own back – as long as he wasn't involved. "You think this is funny? Maybe I should take you all out and look at O'Neill's body, then you wouldn't be laughing. How about you sweetheart, wanna come and take a look? Then we'll see if you laugh at me."

He walked over to Sam and started to untie her bonds. Maybe this would be the chance she needed. She just wished it had been Teal'c she'd chosen however. He'd have a better chance.

Once she was untied he grabbed her arm and lifted her from the chair. Her arms and hands throbbed as the circulation returned. Right now she couldn't have done anything with them anyway.

"Come on – let's go see." He started dragging her to the door.

"Aren't ya gonna let her put her coat and boots on?" Beiman asked.

That stopped him. What was he thinking? They'd made him so mad with their taunting that he'd almost done something stupid. Turning around he pushed Sam into the big chair.

"You sit there and don't move. I don't want to hear anything from any of you. Beiman, you watch em. I'm gonna go get some shut eye for a while. Call me if anything comes up."

"Okay but don't be gone too long. I'm tired too and want to get some sleep."

"Hey, I drove so deal with it." Turning he walked into what had been Jack's room and closed the door behind him.

"So, it's just us now I guess." Beiman smiled at the three prisoners. Unlike Hall he was able to maintain his temper, rarely allowing himself to get angry. Most people thought he was a pretty nice guy, quiet, friendly. What they didn't know was that underneath that placid exterior was the heart of a socio-path.

Copeland looked over and wondered how he could have been so mistaken about anyone as he had been about Beiman. He had worked with the man for 4 years and had always liked him. Although they hadn't socialized outside of work they'd often chatted at lunchtime or when on breaks. When things had first started happening Copeland had needed to talk to someone and he had chosen Beiman. It was the worst – or maybe the second worst – decision of his life.

"So big guy, what's with the tattoo thing on your head. Were you part of a gang or something."

"Yes he was. A really, really bad gang. They killed lots of people – still are." Daniel hoped to frighten 'Doug'.

"Really? Cool. Did you kill anyone?"

"Many."

"Wow. Good for you. Is that why you got the tattoo?"

"I was given this to show that I was in service to my - to the 'gang leader'."

"What was the gang? Anyone I know?"

"It was Apophis."

"The apoffis gang? Never heard of it but they sure do a cool tattoo. So, how come you left it?"

"O'Neill saved me and showed me the way to freedom."

"Really? He must be one of those crusader types. I bet he was a good guy. Too bad we had to kill him." He grinned. The others realized, with this, that Beiman was probably the more frightening of the two men. They sat quietly although Sam looked for an opportunity to do something. Unfortunately, she was too far away from him to do anything effective.

Beiman sat back in his chair and just looked off into space. None of them were fooled that he wasn't totally aware of what was going on.

"Do you think the Colonel is okay Sam?", Daniel asked very quietly.

"No, I expect he's hurt otherwise he'd have been here before now. But I know he's alive and he's coming. I know he would never leave us."

"Yeah, you're right. What was I thinking – it's Jack O'Neill – he never gives up."

The man who never gave up _**had**_ given up - or almost had. There was still a spark inside him, one teeny, tiny spark of 'Jack O'Neillness' that refused to just lie there and die.

"Damn, damn, damn - can't even die in peace", he gasped out to himself. As much as he wanted to just rest he knew he couldn't'. It went against his very nature.

Okay flyboy – reach, grasp, pull. He started again up the hill.

The one good – or maybe bad – he couldn't tell anymore – thing was that he had started to feel his legs again. Okay, they were still numb and pretty useless as far as helping him move but at least he wasn't totally paralyzed. He figured it must have been some kind of 'shock' from the fall, or maybe he'd moved something back in place through his crawling. Whatever it was it gave him a small feeling of relief. Of course, the bad news was that now they hurt like hell along with everything else.

He was afraid to try and catalogue his wounds but decided he'd better figure out what exactly was wrong with him before reaching the top. Anyway, it gave him something to do to pass the time.

"Okay, your life is really pathetic Jack when all you have to do for amusement is count the number of wounds you've accumulated.

"Reach, grab, pull – broken ribs – at least three, more bruised and maybe cracked.

"Reach, grab, pull – internal injuries – punctured lung

"Reach, grab, pull – more internal injuries – maybe kidney – hopefully not liver.

"Reach, grab, pull – one helluva lot of bruises – on top of bruises.

"Reach, grab, pull – cuts, scrapes – arms, face, legs – definitely hands (crap, they hurt every time he pulled himself forward)

"Reach, grab pull – something wrong with back, hips and/or legs – cracked spine? Dislocated vertebrae, broken pelvis?

"Reach, grab, pull – concussion – hopefully not cracked skull

"Reach, grab, pull – beginnings of frostbite and hypothermia

"Reach, grab, pull – probably lots more but I don't want to know.

"Reach, grab, pull – and I stink!

Although the catalogue was large and very depressing, it had kept his mind occupied for a while. When he looked up this time he was heartened to see he'd made a fair bit of progress.

He had to stop however, and catch his breath – as difficult as that was. He was extremely worried that his lung – or lungs – would collapse before he made it and he'd die of suffocation. As it was, he knew he wasn't getting enough oxygen into his system. He was starting to feel slightly punchy.

He started again, knowing that to rest too long was to rest forever. His team was counting on him. How, he didn't know, but somehow he could feel them urging him on. If it hadn't been for that he would probably still be at the bottom of the hill, dying.

By the time he made it to the top he was sobbing in short, gasping breaths.

"Oh God, oh God", he repeated to himself. He didn't know if he could keep going. The pain was so bad. Someone, help me please! He slowly turned his head but there was nothing – only the light from the cabin ahead.

Incoming clouds were slowly covering the moon. That was probably a good thing, he decided. If anyone looked out now he'd be a clear target against the white snow.

Maybe if he just rested for a minute? He was so sleepy and was starting to feel warmer. The freezing cold of a few minutes ago was making way for a tingly warmth that was spreading its way through his body. Somebody up there must have heard him and was helping him. He closed his eyes and rested his body against the warm, soft snow.

"Daddy. Come on Daddy, wake up. It's time to get up." He heard Charlie's voice as if through a haze. He must have been up late last night, he thought. Was it Saturday? Had he promised to go somewhere with Charlie? He was having trouble waking up but his son's voice kept calling to him.

"Okay Charlie", he whispered, "I'm coming. I'll be there in a minute. Just let me sleep a little."

"No Dad. You have to wake up now. Come on."

"Why? Don't ya love me Charlie? Can't you let me sleep in? I musta been up late."

"Yes, I love you Dad. That's why I can't let you sleep. You have to get up NOW!"

He growned and slowly opened his eyes. Expecting to see his bedroom he was started to see nothing but white if front of him. Trying to shake his head he felt a shooting pain and felt the dampness under his cheek.

"Wha' th – hell!" he muttered. Again he tried to move, managing to lift his head. What he saw – the moonlight, the cottage, all brought it back to him. He was dying, in the cold and his team had been captured.

"Charlie!" he called. It had only been a dream. A wave of despair crossed over him. It wasn't real. He let his face fall back onto the snowy ground.

"Dad – I'm real. I love you but you have to stay awake."

He looked up quickly but everything was the same – except it wasn't. This time he'd not only heard his son, he'd felt his presence. Even better, he'd felt his son's love. He sobbed again, softly, but this time, not in despair but in relief. Charlie still loved him – he hadn't lost that. Maybe one day he'd also be forgiven.

With a surge of hope, and a will to go on, Jack began to pull himself forward.


	5. Out of the Cold

**_Another installment. Hope you continue to enjoy._**

Daniel looked at her and nodded. It appeared as if Beiman was asleep, his head resting on the table and his breathing slow and steady.

Sam nodded back and then glanced quickly over at Copeland. He too looked like he was sleeping but, just as she went to turn back, she saw his eyes open and he looked directly at her.

Damn! She'd hoped they were both asleep. She started to relax back into her chair when Copeland closed his eyes. She was sure he had seen her but it looked like he wasn't going to do anything about it. She knew they couldn't count on him to help them, but maybe he wouldn't hinder then either.

She carefully sat forward in the chair and eased herself to her feet. She prayed the old wooden floors wouldn't creak as she stepped forward. Fortunately, there was no sound so she slowly edged her way to the door.

Many times over the years she had cursed the fact that, being a woman in the military, she was often discounted or ignored. Sometimes, however, that was to her benefit, like now. The men had obviously not seen her as too big a threat, even though she had taken one down. They had made a big mistake!

Sam crept closer to the door, step by careful step. At one point she felt one of the boards give a little and heard a soft squeak. She stopped dead and waited, but there was no movement from the table.

She finally made it to the door but was now faced with the difficulty of getting her boots and coat – and opening the door – without being heard.

Slowly lifting her leg she then lowered it into the boot – thanking God it wasn't a fashion boot but rather a warm, waterproof one with laces which were fortunately undone. After successfully putting in the right foot she then did the left one. She wouldn't worry about the laces until she was outside.

She couldn't get to her coat as it was underneath some of the others so she took the one closest to her which happened to be Teal'c's. It would be huge on her but would keep her warm. Gingerly putting her arms in the sleeves she was finally ready to get out. It was difficult keeping her breathing quiet – the nerves making her breaths fast and quick.

This was the difficult part, she knew. She reached out and touched the door nob and began to turn it, ever so slowly. At one point it seemed to stick and she looked over at Daniel and Teal'c, a panicked look on her face. Teal'c's calm look and Daniel's grin reassured her and she gave it a slight tug which got it moving again. Finally, she was ready to pull it open.

Very afraid that either the noise – or the cold blast from outside – would wake Beiman up, she knew she had to be prepared to get out quickly. She just wished she had a weapon.

She was going to try and make it to Jack's truck. She knew he kept a weapon in a lock box under the seat. She just prayed he hadn't locked the door since they were here in the middle of nowhere although she didn't hold out much hope. Jack was incredibly careful about things like that.

Miraculously the door opened quietly (thank you Jim). She only opened it enough to be able to squeak through so as not to let in too much cold. With a quick look to her team mates she squeezed through and quietly closed the door behind her.

Thank God! Now, to find a weapon and then Jack.

He kept feeling like he wanted to sleep. He was so drowsy and warm – which he knew were both really bad signs. If it hadn't of been for his son, he knew he would simply have gone to sleep and never woken up. They would have found his frozen body the next day.

He had to keep telling himself to keep moving, for his team and for his son, but it was increasingly difficult to keep his mind focused. He forgot why he had to keep moving, or what had happened. He didn't even remember that he was injured – just that he had to keep crawling forward.

For a moment, he thought he saw a light shine out from ahead but then it had gone away. Maybe he was dying? He'd always heard that you saw a light ahead of you when it was your time. What it meant that he saw it and then it disappeared he couldn't quite figure out. Maybe it meant God didn't want him. Maybe He was just teasing me, O'Neill pondered – telling me I don't deserve to go to heaven.

But, would God do that? Somehow that didn't seem right. But why the light then? Jack's thoughts kept going round and round without logic or purpose. All he knew was his team needed him so he kept moving forward.

"Damn!", she spoke softly. Jack's truck was locked up tight. "Why do you always have to be so bloody conscientious Sir? Couldn't you forget just once?" But then she thought about what had happened the one time he did forget and felt terrible for that thought. She knew he had done the right thing – just that this time it made it much harder.

So, what should she do now? There was no way she could walk anywhere for help. They were too far away and it was too cold. She didn't have a weapon and no means of communication. She felt like sitting down and crying except that was much too 'girly' a thing to do.

Okay, you're an officer Sam. What can you do? She looked back towards the house, knowing that soon Beiman or Hall would wake up and come looking for her.

As she stared at the cabin she noticed a dark shape lying a few feet from the edge of the drop off. Thinking at first that it was a branch that had fallen she was puzzled when it seemed to move.

"What the hell?", she muttered. Could some animal be out on a night like tonight. Maybe it had been hurt or – oh my God! Could it be?

Without another thought she ran towards the figure. As she got closer she definitely identified him.

"Oh God Colonel. Are you okay?" She rushed over to him and squatted down beside him. He had clearly been crawling along the ground. She could see his trail dimly in the faint light of the moon. She reached out and touched him but he didn't respond, just kept trying to pull himself forward.

She soon realized, by his pathetic and weak movements and his harsh, yet shallow breathing, that he was hurt. How badly she couldn't tell in the dark.

"Colonel. Sir! Please, it's me, Carter." No response – he just kept moving forward.

Finally, in desperation, she moved in front of him and sat down on the snow. She put her face down and spoke again.

"Colonel, please, stop. I'm here. It's me – Carter. Sir, it's Sam." The movements stopped and he rested his head on the snow but still didn't seem to respond to her. She was growing increasingly worried.

Gently touching him she spoke.

"Are you okay Sir?" She could tell that he was freezing and, as the moon suddenly peaked out from behind the ever increasing clouds, she gasped. He face was covered in dried blood and his clothes were ripped and torn. His nails were torn down to the quick and his fingers bloody. She put her hand on his cheek and knew then that things were desperate. His skin was ice cold and he had to be suffering from hypothermia.

"Oh God, Sir. What are we going to do?" She didn't think she could carry him but had to get him inside or he'd die. But that meant that she'd have to give herself and the Colonel up. The way Hall spoke he might just decide to kill the Colonel anyway.

"Charlie –" he coughed. "That you?" She could barely hear him his voice was so weak.

"It's me Sir – Carter." she almost sobbed. Oh no, he was dreaming of his son – this couldn't be good.

"Car - ?"

"Yes Sir, Carter."

"Nice. Like you Car -" he stopped and appeared to fall asleep. She knew this was dangerous and shook him gently.

"Sir, wake up."

"Tha's what Charlie said. Don't slee - -p Da – loves me."

"Oh course he does Sir. Come on, we have to get you out of here." She knew she was going to have to take him back to the cabin. There was no other choice.

"I'm sorry Sir. I wanted to save us but I don't know how. If I only had a weapon!"

"Car" he whispered.

"Yes Sir, what is it?"

"No ... car ...!"

"Oh - your car. But I don't have the keys and you locked your door."

There was silence as the Colonel lay there, drifting in and out of awareness. Suddenly, he started as if realizing something.

"Pock –"

"What Sir?"

"My … pock – keys."

"The keys are in your pocket?"

"Mmmm"

"Thank God Sir. You're wonderful." She scooted back beside him and gently reached out and tried to find his coat pockets. She winced as she saw how shredded it was – but at least it must have offered some protection as it was a thick down jacket.

She felt in the nearest pocket but there was nothing (at least no keys – there appeared to be a myriad of other things in there – she spared a moment of curiosity wondering what Jack did with some of the stuff he carried).

Damn, no luck. She then reached over him and tried to get the other pocket but it was caught underneath him. She quickly sidled around to his other side. She had to pull the coat from underneath him but stopped when she heard his agonized gasp. That had hurt.

"I'm sorry Colonel. I need to find your keys."

"Tsokay.", he gasped

Again, no keys, although she did find a pocket knife which could come in handy. Knowing there was a good chance she'd be searched she wondered where to put it. Figuring that they were less likey to worry about an injured man she decided to leave it with Jack – where exactly she wasn't sure at this point.

Okay – no keys. What to do?

"Pants"

Of course, he would put them in his jean pockets – probably safer than in his coat but still – this was not good. How to get to his pant's pockets when he was lying on his front.

"Can I turn you over Sir?"

"Don't … thin' so."

"Okay then". She carefully but determinadly pulled up his jacket to get at the pockets. She gave him a quick pat on the rear (glad no one was around) just to make sure they weren't in the back. Nope – no such luck.

"Sir – I apologize in advance for this." She then reached under one hip and began to search for the opening to a pocket. She knew it was silly – this was a matter of life and death, but she could feel herself grow red. This was way too intimate a thing to be doing to your CO.

"Don' worry Captain", there was a long pause as she continued to try and find the pocket. "I'll never ….. tell."

"Thank you Sir." Ah, there it was. Now to get her hand in without hurting him – or touching something she didn't want to! She put her hand in and worked it down into the pocket. He gasped and she almost jerked it back but instead stopped her movement.

"You okay Colonel?"

"Mmmm – yeah."

"All right Sir, I'm moving my hand again. There!" Thank God, she'd found the keys. She was tremendously grateful she didn't have to search further. She pulled the keys from his pocket, again hearing his breath hitch, When she had them she knelt down by his head.

"I'm going to get the gun Sir. I'll be right back."

"Kay"

"Sir, I'm going to leave your knife with you. I'm going to stick it in the waist of your pants, in case they search your pockets. Can you hear me?"

"Mmmmm" She knew by his response that she was losing him – either to sleep or unconsciousness she couldn't say – although it probably didn't matter. Carefully reaching underneath him she stuck the knife into the waist of his jeans, under his belt. Hopefully it would remain there. She then stood and, with a quick and worried look back, made her way to his truck.

It took only a moment to retrieve the gun. She placed it under her shirt in the waist of her jeans and quickly made her way back to the Colonel. Just as she knelt down to check on him the door of the cabin burst open and out rushed both Hall and Beiman. She closed her eyes and prayed.

Running up to her Hall grabbed her arm and pulled her up. Striking her across the cheek he practically knocked her back on her butt.

"BITCH! I should kill you."

"Why? You both fell asleep. Did you expect me to just sit there? I wanted to see if the Colonel was okay." She hoped to keep them from considering the truck or that she could have retrieved a weapon.

"So I was right. The two of you do have a thing!" he said visciously.

"No, we're friends and comrades, nothing more. But you wouldn't understand that would you?" She looked down at Jack and knew she'd better keep quiet. He would hurt the Colonel just to get back at her.

"Hey Aaron, I think he's still alive", Beiman called, kneeling down beside O'Neill.

"Really? He always was a tough bastard."

"You want me to kill him?"

Sam gasped and closed her eyes. Oh no, please don't.

"No – I think I'll enjoy it more if he's alive. Looks like he's in bad shape though. Good – he won't escape then and it'll keep the rest in line. They won't leave him. I'll get Copeland to come and help bring him in. You babe, are coming with me." He grabbed her arm again and pulled her to her feet. He then dragged her towards the cabin. She tried to look back towards Jack, afraid that Beiman would decide to kill him after all, but Hall wouldn't let her turn around.

When they got back into the house he threw her back down onto the chair.

"Move and I'll shoot you – or maybe one of your friends. Copeland, Doug needs your help outside."

"With what?" he asked suspiciously.

"Just bringin' in some garbage. Go on, he's waiting."

Copeland walked over and got his coat. With one last look at Hall – and at the bruised face of Samantha Carter, he turned and walked out.

Hall went over to the small kitchen and poured himself a coffee from the pot on the stove.

"Cold out there tonight. I'd hate to be out for too long – the cold'll kill ya", he laughed.

"What is it Sam?", asked Daniel, seeing her distressed look.

"Tell em Captain!"

"It's Jack – I found him."

"You did? Is he okay?"

"I don't know." She was having trouble holding on. She kept glancing to the door, waiting for them to bring Jack in – hopefully alive.

Just then the door slammed open and Copeland stumbled in backwards, carrying Jack's legs. By the time Beiman entered they could all see the shape the Colonel was in.

Both Daniel and Sam gasped and Teal'c looked angry. Sam hadn't been able to see the extent of his injuries in the dark but now they were plain to see. He looked terrible and was clearly in very serious condition.

"Lay him on one of the beds", Hall instructed.

"He's not going to survive long without help." Bob muttered.

"So, help him if you're worried."

"I don't know anything about first aid." He shuddered. He didn't want anyone hurt but, at the same time, he didn't want to get involved in anything. His philosophy, for his whole life, was to avoid anything unpleasant or that inconvenienced him.

"Let me help the Colonel. I know some first aid."

"No – I've gotta watch you lady. Don't want you escaping."

"I'm not going to escape! I wouldn't leave the Colonel."

"Yeah right. You're the one who says there ain't nothin' between you. Why would you stay for just your commanding officer? You'd probably be happier if he was gone anyway." Hall's experience of commanders had never been good.

Sam looked up at him for a moment, realizing that this man would never understand simple friendship or loyalty – two things he'd probably never experienced or demonstrated in his life.

"You were right. I lied."

"What?" he looked at her suspiciously.

"I didn't want to say anything but the Colonel and I – we're lovers." She could sense Daniel's head whipping up at that. She glanced over at him and made a very slight, almost unnoticeable shake of the head. He got it and stayed quiet.

Hall laughed. "Of course you are. I knew O'Neill wouldn't pass up the chance to screw a beautiful woman like you. I knew he liked leggy blonds – used to talk about his wife all the time. I guess he went and got himself a younger model!"

She wanted to be sick at Hall's suggestion – and at what she'd just done – but she knew it was for the Colonel's sake and she also knew her teammates would never repeat what she'd just said.

"Okay – for your lover I guess you can go help him. We'll be checking on you."

"What about my friends. I could use some help and they need to stand up and probably could use the bathroom." She knew they'd been tied up for hours.

"You let us worry about your friends. You see to O'Neill."

"I need the first aid kit. It's in the bathroom." SG1 knew enough never to travel without supplies. They'd all been injured enough to always be prepared.

"Go get it Copeland and let me see it. I wanna make sure there's nothing in it they can use as a weapon."

At those words Sam was reminded that they hadn't searched her. They must have thought that she'd been with the Colonel the whole time.

After Hall had checked the first aid kit he handed it to her and gestured for her to go to O'Neill. Relieved, she walked quickly to the bedroom where he'd been laid. It was her bedroom which pleased her as she was soaked – although a change would have to wait until after she saw to the Colonel.

Walking up to where he lay she was again taken aback by how bad he looked. She knew it was imperative to strip the wet clothes off of him and get him warmed up. At the same time she had to check his wounds. His breathing was increasingly bad and she worried about internal injuries and pneumonia.

Taking the small pair of scissors (Hall obviously didn't think they were a danger) out of othe box she reached down and began to cut the Colonel's coat off. She couldn't chance trying to remove his clothes any other way. Not knowing the extent of his injuries she wanted to move him as little as possible.

Once the arms were cut through she slit the material up the sides. She then pulled the top part off of him, leaving him lying on the rest for now.

"Oh crap Colonel – you really did a number on yourself." His shirt was bloody although not as bad as it could have been if he hadn't been protected by the coat. Reaching down she proceeded to do the same with his shirt, finally pulling it away. Next, and last, was a thermal undershirt. He'd certainly come prepared. When she finally got it off, the pieces of his clothes lying in a heap on the floor, she looked in consternation at his torso.

It was black, blue and purple from top to bottom. The uneven rise and fall of his chest pointed to a punctured lung and the misshapen ribs clearly showed a number of breaks. What worried her the most, however, was the fact that his stomach, on the right side, was distended and hard. When she gently touched it she could feel heat, even though the rest of his skin was ice cold. Okay – something was seriously wrong there. He was bleeding internally and there was little she could do. Covering the top of his body with blankets to try and warm him up, she then moved down.

Now it was time for the legs. Taking the scissors she started cutting down each side of the pants. She'd almost finished the second leg and was ready to pull the top material away, when she heard a soft groan. Looking up she saw that his eyes were open and he was looking at her in confusion.

"Where?"

"We're at the cabin Sir – Jim O'Reilly's cabin. You've been hurt. I'm just trying to fix you up Colonel. Lie still please."

"Cold", he was starting to shiver, which was actually a good thing. His complete stillness and lack of shivering had worried her. It was a sign of more severe hypothermia.

"I know Colonel. I'm going to get these wet clothes off of you and get you warmed up. Just give me a minute."

"Kay", he could barely speak now, he was shivering so badly. She really needed some help here. Pulling the pants off she left him in nothing but his boxers. They were damp and had blood on them – from where she didn't know – but she did know she had to get them off of him. Pulling the blankets over his legs she then reached under and grasped the edge of his boxers.

"I'm sorry Sir – but I gotta do this. Can you lift a bit?"

He tried, he really did, but it was too painful. He couldn't get any leverage so she had to do everything pretty much herself. Realizing it was almost impossible under the blankets she said a quick and silent apology and pulled them aside. Grasping the waist of his boxers she slowly peeled them down – averting her eyes as much as possible. The small pocket knife fell from under the waist band and she retreaved it and hid it down the side of the bed between the wood frame and the mattress.

"Careful of … the sidearm!" God, only the Colonel would joke about something like that at a time like this!

"Don't worry Sir – I'll be careful. There, all done." With that she quickly covered him with as many blankets as she had. She knew she had to clean and bandage his many cuts and scrapes but for now getting him warmed up was more of a concern. She could look to his head and face though.

Walking to the door she spoke to Hall.

"I need some hot water and soap please." She figured she should be as carefull as possible and not antagonize the men.

He and Beiman were playing cards, Copeland was nowhere to be seen – probably sleeping.

"Get it yourself." He gestured to the stove.

"Please Mr. Hall. I need some help. Can't Daniel or Teal'c give me a hand."

He looked up at that and laughed. "What? You think I'm crazy? If you want O'Neill to live it'll be up to you." With that he went back to playing card.

Sighing, Sam went and heated some water. Not only did she need it to clean his wounds, she was hoping to get something hot into him. Looking around she noticed the cocoa and put some into a cup with hot water. Carrying the pot and the cup she walked back to the room. Before she got to the door Daniel asked quietly,

"How is he Sam?"

"Not good Daniel. He's bleeding internally and I think he's punctured his lung again. He can't seem to move his legs very well – I think he may have injured his back. The other problem is that he's got hypothermia. I'm trying to warm him up."

"Okay", Daniel looked terribly worried but knew it wouldn't help Sam to say anything. All he could do was offer his support.

"He will be okay Captain Carter. O'Neill is a tough warrior. He will survive."

"I hope so Teal'c, I hope so." With that, she walked back in the room to see to Jack.

As quickly as she could she cleaned the wound on the back of Jack's head. His hair was matted with blood and with dirt and twigs, probably from his fall down the mountain. She then went on to his face which was terribly scratched and bruised. Fortunately, it didn't look like any of the cuts required stitches. Hopefully that meant no scars. She also washed him off around the neck and shoulders. From the evidence on his coat and shirt – and on his skin – he'd vomited at one point. Poor Jack – he was in very rough shape.

As he continued to shiver he became more and more restless. He was no longer coherent but kept muttering things, which made no sense. Names and places kept getting tossed out. A few times he spoke in foreign languages (quite fluently she thought – Daniel would be shocked). Just as she finished bandaging the last of the visible wounds, she heard him start to speak, but this time she could understand him.

"Charlie", he panted – his breathing kept getting worse. "Charlie, I'm sorry, so sorry." He kept repeating that over and over. Knowing his story, she couldn't help the tears that gathered in her eyes at the pain and hopelessness she heard in his voice.

He kept calling for his son, over and over. Finally, out of desperation – and much like that time in the ice cave in Antarctica – she answered him, pretending to be the person he was talking to.

"I'm here."

"Charlie?"

"Yes – I'm here."

"I didn't … think … you'd come."

"Why not? I love you."

"Why? Why do … you love … me after …. did?"

She deciphered what his was saying and found it hard to speak. How could he bear to live with all this pain and guilt?

"I love you. You didn't do anything. It was an accident."

"No … killed …. you!" He spoke with anguish

"No – you didn't kill me. It was an accident. I love you."

"Love … you …. too Charlie. I'm sorry, so sorry,….. so sorry."

Clearly the guilt he bore was too much for a simple 'I love you' to calm him or bring him peace. Sam wished she knew what she could to do help this man with the tortured spirit.

"It's okay. You didn't kill me. It was an accident. I love you."

"So …. sorry."

She didn't know what to do. He was so restless and the movement and distress was the worst thing for him right now. She needed to get him warmed up – to take a drink of the quickly cooling cocoa but he couldn't settle.

"Daddy", she cried softly, "I love you. It was an accident. I forgive you."

The movement slowed and and then stopped. He lay there, not moving, barely breathing. What had she done? Had she made this worse? Suddenly, a shuddering sigh went through him and she heard a sound come from him that she'd never thought to hear.

Jack O'Neill was sobbing, tears running down his face.

"Thank you", he choked out, "thank you Charlie." He continued to sob quietly, the breath hitching from damaged lungs.

She realized something about this man, at this moment, that she'd never known before. For all his humor, all his bravado, all his sarcasm, here was a man of deep emotion and one who was eaten up with pain and guilt over the death of his son. She didn't know how he went on, how he continued to be the friend, the commander, the soldier or the human being he was.

What she was barely beginning to realize was the fact that her words had finally freed him from the tremendous weight of guilt that had been his constant companion for the years since his son's death.

This man, battered, bruised and near death, was now comforted and could truly rest, for the first time in years. Sam Carter had performed a miracle today – she had saved a man – whether his body it was yet to be determined – but certainly she had saved his soul.

Looking down at this man she felt a wave of tenderness wash over her. Knowing there was little else she could do, and knowing his life depended on it, she took off her shoes and damp outer clothes and climbed under the covers. Carefully, gently she snuggled up to him trying to share her body heat. She closed her eyes and prayed that in the morning he would still be with her. With that thought a worn and weary Sam fell asleep, one more time, against the body of her friend and Commander.


	6. Wounds

**_A relatively short chapter due to exhaustion from my first week on the new job. I just hope it's coherent. Thank you for the reviews and lovely comments - they are very inspiring._**

"Come on. Just let us get up and use the bathroom. We've been here for hours."

"Hall, don't be crazy. Just let them up." Copeland had had enough of Hall and Beiman and their viciousness.

"Fine", answered Hall who was sitting at the table playing a game of solitaire. Beiman was resting in the bedroom. He called out, "Hey Doug, come and untie these two and let em use the john." He turned to his two prisoners, "Don't try anything."

Beiman walked in looking bleary eyed and walked over and untied Jackson first. As much as Daniel had to go, it took him a few moments before the circulation had returned enough for him to stand up and walk the short distance to the bathroom. Once he was done he returned to the living room and sat down on the couch. They didn't retie him but made him sit where Hall could watch him.

"Okay, you next. I'm watching you so just take it easy." Beiman stood back, out of Teal'c's reach to make sure the big man didn't try to attack him. When Teal'c returned they told him to sit down again next to Daniel.

"Here." Copeland walked over and handed them each a soda from the fridge. Taking it gratefully, they both took long sips until the cans were finished.

"So, are you going to tell us what this is all about?" Daniel asked, setting his empty can on the coffee table.

Hall took a drink from his bottle of beer and answered. "It's about leavin' this rat hole and starting a new life."

"Can I assume your 'new life' will be based on some criminal activity?"

"Whoa! 'Based on criminal activity!", he laughed. "You could say that!" Beiman laughed as well. Copeland didn't respond at all although he lowered his head.

"You're those bank robbers we heard about aren't you?"

At this both Beiman and Hall laughed out loud. Again, Copeland did nothing.

"Bank robbers! Where the hell did you get that idea? Do we look like the type who would rob a bank?"

"Well yes actually, you do."

"Hey Aaron – how does it feel to look like a bank robber?"

"I ain't never robbed a bank in my life." He took another swig of beer.

"Then why are you running?" Daniel pressed, trying to figure out what these three were up to.

"Well, Beiman and I aren't exactly runnin – are we Bob?"

When Copeland didn't answer Hall spoke up even louder.

"Right Bob? Doug and me – we aren't runnin' from anything are we?"

The man looked up and glared but answered with a short "No."

"So tell the gentlemen why we're here." When he refused to answer Hall turned to Teal'c and Daniel.

"See, we're just helpin' poor Bob out. He got himself into a bit of a jam and went to Doug for some advice. Doug brought me in and we offered to 'assist' him with his little problem."

Beiman laughed again.

"You are very irritating." Teal'c looked at Beiman. "Do you have a reason for your constant laughter? There does not appear to be anything humerous in this situation." This was the first time Copeland really responded to anything. At Teal'c's comment he looked up and smirked. He clearly didn't like Hall or Beiman.

"Just shut up!" Beiman growled at him. "I'll laugh if and when I want."

"Yes, you will since you are holding us captive. Just be aware that it is an extremely rude habit and one which shows only what kind of human you are."

"Human? What the hell kinda gang were you in?"

"Enough", Hall interjected, tired of the conversation. He was exhausted – it was 2:00 in the morning and he'd only had an hour or so of sleep. What to do with the prisoners? If it had been up to him he would just kill them, but he was afraid that would freak Copeland out so much as to make him refuse to cooperate. For now, they still needed the man.

"Tie 'em up again Doug and take their shoes. That way, even if they were to get loose, they couldn't escape. Take all the boots and coats as well and bring 'em into the bedroom." Yawning, Hall turned and went to the room he was sleeping in.

"I'm gonna try and get some more sleep. Come and get me in a coupla hours and I'll spell you off. This time don't fall asleep. Bob – you'd better get some sleep too."

Beiman tied them up – tightly – to ensure they couldn't escape. He then collected their shoes, and all the boots and coats and put them in the room with Hall. Once he'd finished he returned to the kitchen table and took up Hall's game of solitaire. Copeland walked into the second bedroom – where Daniel and Teal'c had been staying, and laid down and attempted to sleep.

Jack opened his eyes, disoriented and in pain, although he finally felt warm. And the nice thing was it wasn't the warmth of hypothermia or dying in the snow. He realized the heat must be coming from the huge hot water bottle someone had placed beside him – he could feel the heat radiating off it. Where he was he couldn't figure out – but he felt safe so he relaxed, letting the comfort of the soft bed and the warmth surround him.

The pain was insistent, and he knew if he brought himself to full awareness it would be excruciating – so he tried to maintain the fuzzy disassociated state he was in. As long as he didn't think too hard he hoped he could stay in this state somewhere between full awareness and sleep – or unconsciousness.

Along with the feeling of warmth he realized something else. He felt a sense of relief, of 'lightness' – it was if a heavy burden had been lifted, but he couldn't tell what it was. He hadn't felt this way in a long, long time – not since before -wait – since before Charlie -.

Suddenly, without warning, everything came back to him. He remembered Hall and waking up at the bottom of the hill. He remembered the horrific climb back up and something about Carter (why did he remember her with her hands in his pants? Okay O'Neill – that must have been either a dream or his imagination). Finally, he remembered Charlie.

At first he tried to convince himself it hadn't been real, that it had only been a dream. But part of him knew it _**had**_ been real – that Charlie had saved him, had told him he loved him. The part Jack didn't want to approach was the last bit – the part where Charlie had told him he forgave him. God – if it were true!

"Charlie – is it true? Do you really forgive me?" he whispered. Although this time he heard no answer, he felt it – a gentle confirmation. Yes, his son had forgiven him.

"Thank you!" he said again and closed his eyes. Unfortunately, even as he tried to return to that 'fuzzy' state of a moment ago it wasn't happening. Emotionally he felt better than he had in a long time - physically he felt like crap!

"Damn", he choked out. That got him to coughing which sent shooting pains through his chest and head. That caused his eyes to go wonky as he suddenly saw the blankets moving. He then saw some kind of animal with blond fur move beside him.

"What the hell", he gasped.

"Sir. You're awake." Carter turned and switched on the little bedside light and faced him. She went to sit up until she remembered that she had nothing on but her underwear. Fortunately what she did have on was relatively modest.

"Carter?" So that explained the hot water bottle.

"Yes Sir. How are you feeling."

"Fine. What are ….. you …. doing … here." He gasped out. He was so short of breath he began to feel dizzy.

"Trying to warm you up Sir. You were suffering from mild hypothermia. It's a good thing you were wearing thermal underwear or you could have died."

"Captain?"

"Yes Sir?" She reached over and felt his forehead. His skin was flushed. It was as she suspected, he was developing a fever. She'd better look him over.

"How do … you know … what … underwear… I have on."

"Had Sir." She said, distractedly. She wasn't thinking of anything but what she needed to do to help him. She was looking around for her clothes.

"Had?" as sick as he was he sounded – surprised. That made her turn and look at him. When she did she realized what he was saying and could feel herself blush. In her worry and exhaustion she had totally forgotten that she'd had to strip him.

"Uh – you were soaked and freezing Sir. I had to get your clothes off and get you warmed up. Don't worry – I covered you with the blankets."

"Not worried!" He then belied that statement by looking at her and asking, "how am I?"

She knew he wanted the truth. He had been through enough in his life that there was no point in lying.

"Not good Sir. We have to get you to a hospital. You've got internal injuries."

"Yeah – I know." He coughed again. Speaking was making things worse.

"I'm going to get the first aid kit and look you over, see if I can do something to help. Just hold on." She turned and put her feet over the edge of the bed. It was chilly out from under the covers. Giving a quick glance to her commander, who was lying back with his eyes closed, she stood up and walked to the dresser where she'd put a change of clothes. She donned some sweat pants and a sweat shirt which helped to warm her up. She then put on the slippers which were lying under the chair in the corner and walked to the dresser where she'd laid the meager medical supplies.

Jack knew he should have kept his eyes closed and given the Captain her privacy but hey – he was probably dying – he deserved a little joy before he went! He'd peaked as she'd walked across the floor. He admitted to himself that his 2IC was a sexy woman. Okay – she was wearing simple white underwear – not anything revealing – but she still looked better than a lot of women in sexy lingerie. So, sue him, he thought!

By the time she returned with the supplies his eyes were closed. The pain had started to get worse and he was trying anything he could to deal with it. What was as bad as the pain was the strange, heavy and very hot feeling in his abdomen. He knew he was bleeding and the feeling was quite frightening.

"You doing okay Colonel?" she asked softly, concerned at his pale, sweaty face.

"Just … fine Captain."

"With all due respect Sir – you're lying. I need the truth please."

"Why?"

"So I know what to do. I'm going to try and help you until we get you Janet."

"Needle … lady! Sounds like …. fun. Not … much ….you….. can do."

"Let me be the judge of that." She knelt beside him on the bed. The slight dip in the mattress caused him to catch his breath as it put pressure on his ribs.

"Sorry. Here, I'm going to lower the blankets a bit. It'll be cold."

He no longer had the energy to answer so just lay quietly as she attempted to help him. His ribs looked like they might be flayed which was a very bad sign. She didn't know whether or not to try and bind them up – whether that would hurt the internal injuries or not. She could see a small drop of blood coming from his mouth but it didn't appear to be too bad – yet. Wiping it away with a soft tissue, she looked down at him.

God, he needs help. She knew he couldn't last too much longer without emergency care. The fever was probably the precursor to pneumonia.

At least the cuts and scrapes seemed to be doing okay. The bandages had held and nothing looked like it was bleeding again. She carefully checked the back of his head. Although there was a tiny amount of fresh blood it too wasn't bad. She suspected a concussion but didn't think he had a skull fracture – she certainly didn't feel any movement.

Seeing that he was getting chilled she quickly pulled up the blankets. She knew she should check his lower body as well. She suspected something was wrong there but didn't know if she could see anything. She had noted some blood on his clothes but hadn't found a wound so figured she'd better check that now.

"Colonel – I need to check your lower body. I'm going to lift the blanket a bit. Do you hurt anywhere?"

He opened his eyes and looked incredulously at her. Did he hurt anywhere?

"Sir, I meant do you hurt in any particular spot below the waist? I saw some blood and I'm trying to find out if you were wounded anywhere. I know you hurt terribly. I'll give you something in a minute, okay. Just hold on.

He nodded, knowing that she was just trying to help him. He tried to concentrate, to differentiate the pain which seemed to consume his whole body. As he thought about it he began to feel different things – the pain in his chest every time he breathed, the stings from all the cuts – his hands felt especially bad. The trek up the hill had probably done quite some job on them! The strange feeling in his stomach he'd already identified. He didn't want to think about the shooting agony in his head, that just made him feel sick to his stomach and he so didn't want to go there.

Finally, he concentrated on his hips and legs. He hadn't wanted to think about them because he still worried there was something seriously wrong, that he could end up in a wheelchair. He knew, however, that he had to find out – if he was bleeding somewhere Sam could maybe help.

His lower body still felt quite numb although some sensation had returned. He could more his legs, thank God, but only just a little. They were incredibly weak and he felt a strange buzzing feeling up and down his legs when he tried to move them, almost as if an electrical current were running through them (something he'd unfortunately experienced to a much stronger degree when in Iraq).

As far as open wounds were concerned, he really couldn't tell as he was still too numb.

" No – legs just feel weak."

"You can feel them though?",she asked, relieved.

"A little."

"Okay, that's good Sir. Now, I'm just moving the blanket over a little. I'll check your legs first." All she could see when she uncovered his legs were more bruises and cuts and scrapes. It looked like his one ankle was slightly swollen – probably sprained. It didn't look too bad. Other than that everything seemed not too bad. Okay – now for the tricky part.

"Uh Colonel?"

"Hmmm" he was starting to fade again.

"I need to check you out further. I'm just going to move the blanket a little bit okay?"

"Hmmm – kay". He was losing awareness of everything as the pain dragged him down again.

She reached down and moved the blanket to the side, uncovering his hip. She kept the blanket strategically placed so as not to cause embarrassment (more to her than to him as she saw that he was pretty well unaware of what was going on).

His hip was terribly bruised and there were more scrapes but nothing else that she could see. Covering him back up she moved to the other side and did the same thing. Here too there were bruises – but there was also something else. His hip seemed slightly out of alignment. Gently touching it it was obvious that something was broken or dislocated. She didn't know enough to try and manipulate it – and wouldn't he complain if she tried to set it she thought – so left it alone. However, she noticed a streak of blood seeping out from under the blanket.

"Darn!" It looked like there was some kind of wound. She should have checked more carefully before she went to sleep. Knowing there was little else she could do, she glanced up at the Colonel and, with a sigh, pulled the blanket back completely.

Yup – there it was. Right in the crease between his upper thigh and groin was a piece of wood which had gotten imbedded in his flesh. A little to the left and he could have kissed the opportunity for more children goodbye!

"What's wrong … Captain." His weak voice asked the question.

"Uh – you have a sliver Sir. I'm going to have to pull it out."

"Oh" He didn't say anything further for a moment.

"Just … be careful …kay.

"Okay Sir, don't worry, I'll be careful." She realized that the Colonel was totally aware – which would probably cause them both no end of embarrassment later. For now, she was focused on what she had to do.

Just as she reached for some of the supplies the door opened and Hall walked in. Seeing Jack lying partially naked he laughed.

"I see you're making the most of it Jacko. Samantha told us about you two. Lucky dog you. You still married? Your wife know what's going on?"

Jack looked up in confusion, unsure what Hall was talking about. He looked over to the captain and could tell that she looked flustered. He didn't know what this was about but right now didn't care. He just wanted some of that pain killer Sam had promised.

He let out a soft groan. Please Captain, get going.

"Unless you're here to help I suggest you get out. I'm trying to help Colonel O'Neill. He's been badly wounded because of you. Please, just leave."

"Okay sweetheart, I'm going. Jack, you enjoy your Captain okay! After you're done with her maybe I'll try a piece of her. You know it's polite to share!" Laughing, Hall left the room.

Teal'c was right, she thought. All this laughter from these goons was very irritating.

"Okay Sir, I'm going to go wash my hands and then try and get this thing out. It's gonna hurt but you'll probably feel better afterward." She stood up and poured alcohol over her hands, letting it drip into the small basin she'd brought with the first aid supplies. As she reached down towards Jack he grabbed her hand weakly and stopped her.

"What? What is it Colonel?"

"Morphine, please?" He never thought he'd ever hear himself ask for pain killers. It went against his nature, but he was starting to lose it from the constant pain and he didn't think he could take any more. Asking for medication was better than collapsing in a sniveling, crying heap he figured.

She closed her eyes in distress, knowing what it must have taken the Colonel to ask for pain relief. She also felt badly that she hadn't given him something already.

"I don't think I should give you morphine Sir, not with a head wound. There's some Tylenol with codeine. I can give you that."

Yeah – like offering a bandaid to someone who's just had their leg hacked off. Knowing it wouldn't do a thing he asked again.

"No – morphine. I'll … take my … chances."

"Are you sure Sir?" she knew then that it must be really bad for him to insist.

"Yeah … please", okay, stop it O'Neill, he said to himself – you're starting to whimper.

"All right. Hold on a moment and I'll get it." Moving to the kit she pulled out a vile of medication and a needle. Filling it she turned towards him. At that moment she caught site of his face. The colour had drained completely from his face and the bruises and cuts stood out in macabre relief. His brows were drawn together in pain and his lips folded in until they had disappeared – clearly he was trying to deal with the agony of his wounds.

She quickly approached and, wiping his hip with alcohol, plunged the needle in and gave him the morphine.

"Bad … as … Janet!"

"Yes Sir, I know. You'll feel better in a minute."

"Counting … on it."

She waited until she could see his face begin to relax. The pain killer was quickly taking effect, thank God. Maybe now he could rest. She just hoped they hadn't made a huge mistake with the head injury.

"All right. I'm going to take this sliver out now." This time Jack just gave a small nod. He was feeling much better. Although the pain was still there he felt disassociated from it – as if it wasn't really his.

Looking at the piece of wood she acknowledged it was much bigger than a splinter but hadn't wanted to worry the Colonel. About three inches long, at least the part she could see, it was about ½ inch in diameter. She prayed it wasn't in too deep or that it hadn't caused any more internal damage.

With the disinfectant and bandages close by she reached down and carefully began pulling the wood. Jack's breathing stopped for a second, and then resumed. He'd felt it but the morphine was taking the edge off.

It finally pulled out, the blood seeping quickly behind it. It hadn't been in too deep, at least not deep enough to cause too much internal trauma, but deep enough so that it required stitches and was causing quite a bit of bleeding.

Holding a pad to it for a while she waited until the bleeding had slowed and almost stopped. She then poured some of the antiseptic into the wound and wiped around it with a sterile cloth. It looked quite angry as if some infection had already set in. She again cursed herself for not having checked prior to this. Letting personal discomfort get in the way of a thorough check was something she'd castigate herself for for a long time.

She quickly bandaged it up, hoping it wouldn't bleed to much more but knowing she couldn't stop that without stitching the wound – and she didn't have the supplies to do that.

Once she was done she pulled the blankets over him and tucked him up. By this time he was sleeping, the relief from pain allowing him to rest.

"That's right. You rest Colonel. We'll see about getting out of this in the morning." Looking down at him, she couldn't help but wonder if he'd make it to the morning.

"So, whatya think this is about Teal'c?" Daniel asked softly. Both he and Teal'c had been tied up but this time they were left on the couch together.

"I do not know Daniel Jackson but I do not believe they robbed the bank."

"No, I don't think so either although I was sure of it at first. I don't get it – it has something to do with Copeland. He obviously despises the other two so I can't figure out what he's doing with them. What do they have over him?"

"Or what does he have that they want?"

"I never thought of it that way. That's probably why they're keeping him, and us, alive. They don't want to piss Copeland off too much."

"Yes, that seems logical. How do you think Colonel O'Neill is doing?"

"I don't know Teal'c. I hope Sam can help him but he looked pretty bad. If he doesn't make it I'm going to kill those two."

"And I will assist you Daniel Jackson – although it may take me a long time."

Suddenly envisioning all sorts of Jaffa revenge techniques, Daniel shuddered and stayed quiet. He wished he could figure out how to get out of this mess.

He felt a soft nudge and moved over but the nudge came again. He looked at Teal'c, who was staring off into space so he looked away. He felt another nudge, this time more insistent and looked at his friend. Teal'c looked completely relaxed which was fine until Daniel realized that Teal'c never looked relaxed when they were in this kind of situation. Inscrutable yes – relaxed no.

After feeling another nudge he glanced down and saw that Teal'c was attempting to reach his bound hands. D'ah! What was he thinking! Slowly, carefully putting his hands back, he felt Teal'c reach and start pulling on the ropes with his own bound hands.

This was going to take a while and they may get caught, but at least they were doing something.

"Hang on Jack", Daniel muttered beneath his breath. "We're coming."

"


	7. Together

**_Another chapter. Hope you enjoy. Please keep those reviews coming. It inspires me to keep writing everyday!_**

"You can go get some shut eye now Beiman. I'll take over." Hall walked out of the bedroom, running his hands through his hair. He'd slept for a couple of hours and was feeling better.

"How were they?" he asked as he made his way to the stove to get a cup of coffee.

"Not a peep." Beiman stood up and stretched. He was almost dead on his feet.

"Dja check on O'Neill and the woman?" Hall asked.

"Yeah – both sleepin like babies. Unless O'Neill is dead of course." he laughed, looking over at Teal'c as he did so. The Jaffa simply looked back and lifted his eyebrow which, for some reason, ticked the man off no end.

"Watch that one", he pointed to Teal'c. "I don't trust him."

"Don't worry, I'll watch them both. I'm thinkin' we should get all of them out here and keep an eye on 'em. I don't trust O'Neill either. He's a sneaky bastard and could be better off than he's lettin' on."

"Oh come on." exploded Daniel. "You could see for yourself the condition he was in. What do you expect him to do?"

Hall walked over and stood looking down at the younger man. "I thought you knew him."

"I do." Daniel answered, looking puzzled.

"Well then, I'm surprised you're countin' him out so soon. Unless O'Neill is dead you gotta watch out for him. Just ask the Iraqis! They practically killed him and he still managed to get everyone out."

This was something neither Daniel or Teal'c had ever heard. They knew he'd been a prisoner but assumed that he'd been either rescued or released through some kind of prisoner exchange.

"You mean he escaped?" Daniel asked incredulously.

"Ha! Didn't O'Neill tell you? Nah, he wouldn't – likes to keep things close to his chest. Yeah, he escaped and took the rest of us with him. The Iraqis figured he couldn't do anything since he was hurt so bad. He managed to grab one of the guards and get his weapon - he then led a revolt and we took the prison. There weren't many guards there at the time. O'Neill commandeered some jeeps and an Iraqi tank and we made it out."

"If O'Neill helped you escape why do you hate him so much?' asked Teal'c

"Cause maybe I didn't want to escape. I had it good there – the Iraqis treated me fine in return for some small favors. When we got back I was arrested for 'aiding the enemy'. I ended up spending five years in Leavenworth cause of him. It woulda been longer except they couldn't prove I'd given any military information away."

"You really are despicable aren't you." Daniel shook his head in disgust.

Hall just looked down at him, a pulse beating wildly in his forehead. He turned to Beiman who was still standing by the bedroom door.

"Go bring O'Neill here and the woman. Let's keep 'em together. If either of them so much as twitch, kill em."

Grinning, Beiman pulled his gun from the waist of his pants and turned towards the bedroom. Walking in he stared for a moment at the two bodies lying closely in the bed. Yeah, there was definitely something between the two of them. O'Neill wasn't as squeaky clean as he pretended.

"Come on, get up." he called down to the two. He noticed that O'Neill was looking terrible – his face was bone white with an overlay of red blotches, his breathing was shallow and sounded forced, as if he couldn't take in enough air.

"Wakey, wakey", he reached down and shook Sam. Opening her eyes she shot up and struck out with her arm. Beiman grabbed it and held on.

"None of that sweetheart", pulling her arm he forced her to stand up. Glancing back at the Colonel she checked to make sure he was okay. At least he was still hanging in there.

"Come on. Aaron wants you both in the other room to keep an eye on you."

"But the Colonel can't be moved, he's hurt."

"Well, it's either he moves or I kill him now. Maybe that would be easier", he smilied, "looks like he's not going to be with us much longer anyway. Your choice lady."

Looking at man she realized he was serious. It would give him immense satisfaction to kill the Colonel. God, what kind of men were these?

"Okay, but I'm going to need help. He can't walk."

"Sure he can. Wake him up. Hey, Colonel! Come on, time to get up, time to get movin'." He reached down and shook his shoulder.

Groaning, Jack opened his eyes. What was happening? He looked up and saw Sam staring down at him, her lower lip between her teeth. She looked worried and frightened.

"Wha ….?"

"Sir, they want you to move into the other room. I'm going to try and help you. Do you think you can make it."

"Huh?" he asked in confusion. What did they want him to do?

Sam knelt beside the bed and reached over and stroked his forehead. He was burning up.

"Colonel, we're at the cabin remember? These men are holding us captive", she gestured with her head towards Beiman. "They want us all in the living room so you have to move. Do you think you can do it?"

"Yeah … kay." He tried to sit up but didn't have the strength to even roll to his side. Fortunately, although he didn't realize it in his confused state, the morphine was still working so he wasn't feeling much in the way of pain.

She turned towards Beiman.

"You can see he's not going to make it. He needs help."

"Yeah, so help him. You're strong."

"Okay, but he needs clothes first." No way was she going to take him into the other room completely naked. It made him too vulnerable and would be too cold.

Sighing, Doug turned and walked to the door. "You ask a lot lady. Just stay right there."

"What is it? Why aren't they coming?" Hall looked up as Beiman walked towards the other bedroom.

"He needs some clothes." He walked into what had been O'Neill's room and opened drawers until he found some sweat pants and a shirt. He also grabbed some socks. Turning he headed back to the other room.

"Here – get him dressed. I'll be back in five minutes."

Once he'd left Sam looked down at her Co and frowned. How to do this without hurting him too much.

"Okay Sir. I'm gonna help you get dressed. Just relax and I'll be as careful as I can."

"Know you … will Sam." he smiled gently at her. He still couldn't quite figure things out but knew something bad was going down. He was just grateful that she was here with him.

Pulling down the covers she carefully pulled the shirt over his head. Pulling it down as far as she could she then grabbed his arm and, bending it gently, worked his hand through the sleeve. Tugging it down she then went on to the other arm. This was going to be more difficult as it was the side with the broken ribs. She didn't want to lift his arm, afraid that it would cause more damage. So she simply looked for a moment, trying to figure out what to do.

"Just … pull it .. on Captain. Tsokay."

"I don't want to hurt you Sir."

He snorted, which caused him to cough. Damn, she thought, the cough sounded watery which probably meant pneumonia had set in.

"All right, here goes." Stretching the shirt as much as she could she pulled it down and worked his hand into the sleeve, trying to bend his arm only at the elbow. After a few minutes of careful struggle she managed to work his arm down all the way. She then pulled the shirt down to cover his horribly bruised torso.

"One done Sir."

"Hmmm."

"Okay – this shouldn't be bad. I'm just gonna put your socks on." She took his foot in one hand and worked the heavy woolen sock on. These should definitely help keep him warm. The Colonel really knew how to dress for cold weather thank God.

"Just like my ….. Momma used to …. do Carter."

"I'm sure Sir. I bet you gave her lots of trouble when you were a kid."

"Nah … was an …. angel."

She looked up at him and grinned. "Sure Sir, I believe that."

He grinned back at her, happy to have made her smile.

"Now the other one. There, that's done. Okay, it's time for the pants. This is going to be tricky Colonel. I don't want to hurt your hip – which I think may be broken - so don't try to help. Just let me do everything okay?"

He stared at her for a moment, suddenly feeling terribly uncomfortable. Having his female second in command – and a beautiful one at that – dress him was not on his top ten list of things he wanted to have happen. Now, if she was _**un**_dressing – stop it O'Neill – your mind is definitely going in the wrong direction. She's your subordinate, for God sakes and she probably thinks of you like a father figure.

"All right … Captain. Go for it."

She bunched the legs up as much as she could and put each foot through the ankle holes. Then, she worked them up slowly, pulling as gently as she could so as not to hurt him. Finally she reached to the point above his knees. Damn, this was going to be uncomfortable for them both, she thought. Why the Colonel? Anyone else and she would have handled this matter of factly. She knew that if it had been Daniel in this position she wouldn't have thought anything of it. Why it bothered her so much when it was the Colonel, she didn't know.

It's not as if he sees you in any other way other than as an officer under his command, she thought. He'd never shown the slightest bit of interest or attraction to her, always treating her with kindness and respect. In fact, she'd never worked with an officer who seemed less concerned over the fact that she was a woman than that she was a competent soldier. It was refreshing to say the least.

Why she was so uncomfortable now, then? Okay, to be honest with herself she found the man incredibly attractive – yes, sexy even. That wasn't surprising – half the women on the base were in love with him (the other half were in love with Daniel and just about all of them fantasized about Teal'c and his ... well, anyway!). What was really surprising was that it went far beyond his looks with her. She loved his humor (which most of the other women didn't get). She loved his sense of honor and fair play and she loved that he would do anything for those he cared about. Yeah, if she was being honest she recognized that she could easily fall for this man – something which she absolutely, positively could not let happen.

Anyway, he probably saw her as too young – more of a younger sister than anything.

All of these thoughts flitted quickly through her mind as she contemplated what to do next. His voice finally interrupted her thoughts.

"Just … go for it … Captain. Nothin' you … haven't seen … before." She glanced up quickly at that, her cheeks burning. When she caught his weak but cheeky grin she had to laugh. Yes, this man was definitely pretty special.

"All right Sir, here goes." Pulling aside the blanket she continued to work the pants up. When she got to his butt she pressed down into the mattress rather than trying to have him lift. She was able to work them under partway but then had to move to the front. With glowing cheeks (hers not his, she giggled to herself) she stretched the pant up as much as possible and worked them to his waist. She had to be careful to not touch the bandaged wound in his groin area. Unfortunately, she'd have to check that in a while anyway.

"There you go Colonel. All done."

"Good job … Carter. You'll make …. a great …. Mom someday."

Just then Beiman walked back into the room. "All ready Colonel? Good, the Captain got you all dressed nice and tight. I bet she enjoyed that!" he laughed. "Come on, let's get moving." He waved his gun at them.

"I'm going to help you Sir. Just let me do most of the work."

"Always my … plan Carter." She cautiously put her arms under his back and helped him sit up. His breath hitched and he let out a short groan.

"God", he muttered. The morphine must be wearing off. Finally, sitting up as much as he could, Sam helped him swing his legs over the side of the bed.

"Crap, crap, crap", he gasped. The feeling was definitely returning in his hips and legs. While part of him rejoiced at that, he wished he could have found out a different way.

"Are you alright Sir?", Sam asked worriedly. She looked over at Beiman. "I don't think he can do this. He needs help."

"Fine", he sighed. Putting his gun back into the waist of his pants, he walked over to the bed. Reaching his arm around Jack's shoulders he grasped him under the arm and pulled him up to a standing position.

"Aaaarghh!" Jack shouted and collapsed against him.

"What are you doing?" Sam cried. "You'll injure him more."

"Come on lady, I don't have time for this. Grab him on the other side and let's get him moving." Knowing the sooner they got the Colonel lying down again the better, she went to help.

"Wait, I need the supplies." Gathering the first aid stuff quickly she stuffed it in her night bag. She then carefully added the small knife which she had hidden as well as the gun which she'd kept under her pillow. As Beiman was trying to keep the Colonel from pulling them both down he didn't notice.

Swinging the bag over her shoulder she quickly went up to the Colonel and put her arm around his back, trying to be careful not to hurt his ribs or abdomen.

"Let's go." Beiman started walking and together the two of them basically carried the Colonel to the other room. He tried to help a bit but had trouble to keep from passing out... Anyway, he couldn't put weight at all on one leg and very little on the other.

"What are you doing?" Daniel cried as he saw them bring Jack from the room.

"Putting you all where we can see you. Hello Jack. How's it going? You're not looking too good there." Hall walked up to where the two were struggling to walk Jack to the couch. The injured man looked back, clearly not understanding what was happening.

"You two – move carefully to the chairs." Daniel and Teal'c looked quickly at each other. They'd almost worked the ropes off of Daniel's wrists and they didn't want their captors to see. Standing carefully, Daniel tried to edge to the chair without showing his hands behind his back and without appearing suspicious. Fortunately, all eyes were on the Colonel, who had finally slumped unconscious.

"Okay, let's get him down." Beiman started dragging the Colonel to the couch. Sam quickly moved, still supporting the Colonel on one side. When they arrived Beiman simply let go and it was all Sam could do to support the Colonel and try and ease him more gently to the couch. She then took his legs and lifted them. When he was lying flat she turned to Hall.

"I need some blankets and pillows. He shouldn't lie flat."

"Go get 'em some things Doug. Then you can crash."

"How come I have to do all the work Aaron?" Doug asked, a cold note in his voice.

"Cause I'm the brains of the operation." He wasn't looking at his 'friend' so missed the look of hatred that passed over Beiman's face. Uh oh, thought Daniel, there's going to be a falling out amongst thieves (or whatever they were). He was sure that Hall had no idea who he was dealing with. Maybe they could use this to their advantage. The three men obviously hated one another and were only together for some, as yet, undisclosed purpose.

After Beiman had brought the pillows and blankets she arranged the Colonel as best she could. She was increasingly worried as his breathing worsened and his temperature rose. She also needed some water to cool him down.

"Can I get a bowl with water. I need to cool him off."

Hall looked at the woman and then down at O'Neill. What would be more pleasurable, he thought? Let him die – or keep him alive as long as possible and then kill him?

"Okay – just go slow." Hall turned and sat back down at the kitchen table. Dealing the cards in front of him he again proceeded to play solitaire.

Sam stood up and went to the kitchen where she poured a bowl of water. Grabbing a clean hand towel she returned and sat on the floor beside O'Neill. Soaking the towel in the cold water she rang it out and placed it on his forehead. She then began to wipe his face with it, trying to avoid the cuts and scrapes.

"How is he Sam?"

"I don't know Daniel. He's holding on but that's about all. I think he's developed pneumonia. I'm afraid if we don't get help soon it may be too late. Then there's the bleeding. His abdomen is really distended so it could be bad."

"Don't count .. me out yet … guys."

"O'Neill! You are awake. How are you my brother?" Teal'c asked.

"A little … battered", he coughed causing the pain to spike through him. His arm wrapped around his stomach he tried to hold on. God – please stop!

Finally, the coughing fit ended. He leaned back and closed his eyes. He'd heard Sam and knew that he was, indeed, in bad shape. He also knew they had to get out of here and he didn't want to hold his team up. He could try and order them to escape and leave him but quickly dropped the idea. He knew them all too well – they'd simply ignore him and stay. So, how to get them out of this?

"How's everyone … else?" He turned his head and looked at his team.

"We're fine – a little stiff from sitting in these damn chairs with our hands tied. At least they let us use the bathroom."

"Yeah. Not … nice being tied up and … having to pee … yourself." Sam started, the Colonel looked like he knew what that was like. What hadn't this man been through?

"So, how we … gonna … get out … of this?" he asked. He spoke softly but knew full well that Hall was listening in to the conversation. Aaron wasn't educated but he was canny. His main problem, Jack knew, was his arrogance. He thought he was smarter than he was and sometimes missed things. Jack counted on that to get them out of this.

The other two men he couldn't read as he hadn't really seen them in action. He sensed that Beiman was bad and could be a real problem. The other man he just didn't know about.

"I suggest we kill these men, O'Neill, and leave their bodies for the carnivorous animals in the area. Then we can drive for help." Teal'c was obviously relishing the idea.

Jack wasn't quite sure if his friend was serious or not – but he must admit the idea sounded appealing. He saw Hall stop playing for a moment. He'd heard that!

"Okay. Go for it …. Teal'c!"

"I would O'Neill, except that my hands are tied."

"How about you … Daniel?"

"Sorry Jack. My hands are tied too."

"Too … bad. Don't happen to …. have something … to shoot Hall … with Captain?" He looked at his second and smiled. The look she gave him surprised him. Something was up – what did she have up her sleeve?

"No, sorry Colonel. You know me – I don't like guns, they scare me." Okay – definitely something up. Sam was an extremely proficient markswoman. She didn't like killing but certainly enjoyed the times they'd gone to the shooting range and she certainly wasn't afraid of using a gun.

"So, the little woman is afraid of guns? Sounds like your type all right., O'Neill – the little woman you have to protect." Jack's teammates all looked up at this – Hall clearly didn't know O'Neill very well if he thought that.

"How you get into the Air Force Captain? You a nurse?" Hall wanted to know more about this woman. She fascinated him as did her relationship with O'Neill.

"No, I'm an administrative assistant." She glared at Daniel who had almost choked at this. "I do the office work for the Colonel." Jack looked at her in wonder. God, she was brilliant – but really, Sam as his _**secretary!**_ George would die laughing if he could hear this conversation - and the Jaffa and System Lords she'd whooped would be incredulous.

"You into office work now O'Neill? I never thought I'd see you behind a desk. What happened?"

"O'Neill was injured and had to take a desk job. We work together in Deep Space Radar Telemetry." Teal'c had decided to take charge of the conversation.

"Deep Radar _**what? **_What the hell's that?"

"We listen for aliens in deep space." Teal'c answered with a straight face.

"Y'ever find any?" Hall asked with a snide grin on his face.

"Indeed" there was a pause in which his teammates all looked at him with wide eyes, "not." There were a number of silent sighs of relief. "We have as yet to find anyone beyond this planet. But we are certain it might one day happen. There could be powerful aliens who desire to take over earth and who will enslave humans and use them for their own purposes. They might think of themselves as Gods who can do what they wish with humans. We do not know, but it is possible."

Daniel looked like he wanted to swallow his tongue. Sam looked surprised and Jack – well he had a faint grin on his face. Yup, this proved it, Teal'c did have a sense of humor.

"Ah – right." He looked at Teal'c for a moment, wondering who in hell this guy was, "Jack, I think you've been put out to pasture, m'boy. The Air Force didn't know what to do with ya so they gave you a useless desk job and a team of weirdoes. How does it feel to be out of the real action? Jack O'Neill and a desk job – now that's funny! I guess there are some perks though, eh?" he said, looking at Sam. "How long you been screwing the Captain?"

"You're an …. asshole …..Hall! "Carter's my …. second … not my … girlfriend."

"That's not what she said. She told us you were lovers. Let's see. Who's lyin' here?" He paused. "I think you are O'Neill. It's obvious there's something between you. All you have to do is see the way she looks at you or the way you look at her. Yeah, she's got the hots for you all right." Smirking, he turned back around and resumed his card game.

Jack glanced at his Captain out of the corner of his eyes, expecting to see an angry and disgusted Carter. He was surprised instead to see her looking very red, and very embarrassed. Looking next at Daniel and Teal'c he grew suspicious when neither of them would look at him. They both appeared way too innocent. What the hell?

"Sir, you need to rest." She began fussing around him, but wouldn't look at him. He reached out and took her hand. At that she glanced up.

"Captain?"

"I'm sorry Sir", she muttered. She tried to pull her hand away but he wouldn't let her. "They wouldn't let me help you – said I'd try to escape. When I said … well, I admitted – I mean, not _admitted_ but told them .."

"Sam!"

"I told them we were lovers. That way they would let me look after you. I'm sorry Sir – I didn't mean anything by it." This time she managed to pull her hand away.

"Captain … it's … okay. You did what .. you had to … do. Daniel and Teal'c won't … say anything. They know .. it's not … true."

She looked up at him in gratitude. He was taking this calmly – thank God. Although a second later she admitted to herself that part of her was a little disappointed at his reaction. It clearly didn't mean a thing to him. She turned away to get the cloth and begin to cool him off when she heard his softly uttered -

"Unfortunately." She whipped her head up and looked at him, but his eyes were closed. Did he say that? With a small smile she resumed wiping his face and neck. Oh Colonel, we have to get you home.

Daniel had finally managed to get his hands completely free. He spent a while rubbing them to get the circulation back. Now what to do? He didn't have a weapon and by the time he tried to release Teal'c Hall could have shot him or called for Beiman – or both. He just wished he had a gun – a thought that had never crossed his mind before life with SG1.

He looked at Teal'c and gave a tiny nod. Teal'c raised his eyebrow. Not sure what that meant Daniel raised both of his in question. Hey – a new form of language, he thought – eyebrows!

Teal'c gestured with his head towards Sam who was still wiping Jack down. Yeah, she would help. How to let her know?

"Sam", he called softly. Hall looked up but then bowed his head back to his game.

"Yes", she replied quietly. He looked down, trying to show her, with his eyes, that he was free.

She frowned at him, unsure what he was saying.

"Uh Sam", he gestured with his head, nodding down. He then moved his hands over a bit, hoping she could see from where she was sitting. He looked up and caught her eye. Yes! She understood.

She scooted over to her night bag and rummaged around.

"What are you doing?" asked Hall

"Just getting some Tylenol for the Colonel. His fever is getting worse."

"Okay – just don't try anything funny."

She moved back towards the Colonel, pulling the bag with her. As she neared Daniel she took out the gun and laid it on the floor at his feet. His look of surprise was priceless. She kept going and when she got back to the couch she stopped and reached in and pulled out the Tylenol. She pushed herself to her feet and walked to the kitchen.

Hall stood up. "What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'm just getting a glass of water to give the Colonel his pills." He watched closely as she reached up, took a glass down and filled it with water. She turned and walked back towards the living room. As she got close to Hall she turned and threw the water in his face. Gasping, he tried to wipe his eyes and grab for his gun at the same time. Sam, however, grabbed him from behind. Pulling his right arm behind him she held on tight. With her other hand she held the pocketknife, which she pressed to his neck.

"Don't move." Hall stood quietly, realizing, at that moment, that this was no secretary – this was a soldier.

"Daniel, untie Teal'c." Holding the gun, the archaeologist stood up and moved towards Teal'c. Kneeling down he quickly untied his friend. The two stood up.

"Go check on Beiman. Be careful." Sam kept all her attention on Hall.

"You don't need to check on me. I'm here and I have a gun trained on you Captain. I suggest you put your knife down. I don't trust you people see – so I thought I'd just take a peek - and see what I found." Beiman stood in the door of the bedroom. He'd managed to open it quietly, and just enough, to see what was going on and to point the gun at Sam.

They all froze. What to do? Daniel was turned towards Beiman, his gun held down by his leg. He didn't think the man had seen it yet. He slowly started to lift his arm. Could he do it?

"Let him go Captain."

"I don't think so. I think you should put the gun down or I'll kill him."

"Go ahead. I really couldn't care less. It'll save me the trouble. Just know that I'll kill you afterward." Hall looked shocked at this. Maybe now he was figuring out what kind of person he'd hooked up with.

Sam looked indecisive. She believed Beiman would have no compunction in killing her. Could Daniel get him in time? She wished it were the Colonel or Teal'c with the gun. It wasn't that Daniel wouldn't do what he had to; it was just that she didn't know how good a shot he was.

"Captain, I'm giving you till the count of three and then I shoot. Who knows, I may kill two birds with one bullet." He laughed again.

"I agree with Teal'c – that's really irritating." Daniel raised his gun and shot.


	8. A Long Day

**_Another chapter!_**

The bullet hit Beiman in the shoulder, swinging him partially around so that he slammed into the door jam. He recovered quickly, however, and tried to turn and get a shot off towards Daniel. Teal'c had taken the opportunity, when Beiman was first hit, to rush towards the man. Before he had a chance to raise his gun Teal'c had tackled him to the ground.

The two engaged in a short but fierce battle. Beiman was, of course, no match for Teal'c, especially with a hole in his shoulder. Pinned to the ground, dizzy from blood loss, he stopped struggling.

At the moment the gun had gone off Hall took the opportunity and grabbed the arm around his neck. Twisting, he tried to to free himself from Sam and get the knife from her. He figured that the element of surprise, plus the fact that he was dealing with a woman, would make for an easy victory. He was dead wrong.

Sam had spent the last few years as a combat officer. She'd fought enemies much stronger, and much smarter than Hall. Knowing what he would try she was prepared. As he grabbed the arm with the knife and tried to swing her around she used his own momentum to keep him moving and ended up flipping him onto the kitchen table. His playing cards and coffee cup flew in all directions as he landed with a loud thud on the table. Good thing it was an old, solid wood farm house table, otherwise it probably would have collapsed.

As it was, Hall lay there, on his stomach, the breath knocked out of him. Sam reached over and grabbed his arms and pulled them behind him. Looking up at Daniel, who still stood with the gun pointed towards the bedroom, she spoke. "Daniel, bring me the ropes. I'm gonna tie him up."

"Huh. Oh, yeah, okay." Putting his arm down he looked a little stunned but finally walked over to the ropes that lay on the floor behind where he'd been sitting.

"Bring some for this one as well Daniel Jackson." Teal'c was still holding Beiman pinned down. The man looked like he was almost passed out but there was no way they were going to take any chances.

Daniel handed the ropes to Teal'c and then walked over to Sam. "Here, I'll do him up, you just hold him Sam." Daniel had a fleeting and strange thought – who would have thought, when he was in university studying, that one day one of the skills he would have would be knowing how to tie up prisoners so they couldn't escape. His life had certainly gone in a different direction than he'd planned.

Once both the prisoners were tied they led them both to the chairs Daniel and Teal'c had sat on for so many hours. Forcing them both to sit the three friends looked at each other in relief. Now, to get the Colonel to a hospital.

The three teammates all looked at their commander who was awake – he'd watched, with pride, his team in action. He just felt badly that he had been of no use to them.

"What … about … the other … guy?" he asked breathlessly. The looks of shock on all there faces would have been funny except for one thing and that was the voice that suddenly came from the other side of the cabin.

"Are you talking about me?" They looked around and there stood Copeland, a gun in his hand pointing directly at them. "Yeah – you forgot about me didn't you? Well, I think you'd all better move back really slowly or I'll have to shoot. I confess I'm not too experienced with guns so I'm not quite sure where the bullets will go – but I expect they'll hit someone." Daniel, Sam and Teal'c all stepped back carefully, knowing that a gun in the hands of an inexperienced person could be even more deadly than with someone who knew what they were doing.

"Thank God Bob." Hall spoke from his chair. "Get these ropes off of us."

Copeland looked steadily at the rough looking man. Slowly he smiled. "Sorry Aaron, I don't think so. I kind of like you where you are."

"Bob – what … about me?" Beiman sat in the chair, blood covering his shirt and looked at the man he'd worked with for the last 5 years.

"Sorry Doug. You I trust even less that Hall. You can stay right where you are. Looks like they got you good. I hope you don't bleed to death."

"Come on Bob. I thought we were friends. Hey, I'm the one that's been trying to help you here."

"Help?" Copeland laughed. "You weren't interested in helping me Doug – you simply wanted a piece of the action. Well, I'm sorry. These guys here just saved me a lot of work and a lot of money. I'm perfectly happy with the way things are now."

Walking carefully over to the window he pulled the curtain aside, still watching SG1 carefully. He didn't know who these folks were really – but he was going to be very careful.

"Looks like the storm has moved in. We're gonna be here for a couple of days probably."

"What are you going to do with us?" asked Daniel.

"As soon as the weather clears I'm gonna take the Colonel's truck and get out of here. You can all stay here and try and make it out on your own. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to make it so you can't drive the other car – but I'm sure you'll eventually find a way to get out."

"But what about the Colonel?" Sam asked. "He needs help right now."

"Sorry about that. I didn't want anyone to get hurt but I can't chance having you tell anyone where I am. I'll feel bad if he dies but it won't be my fault."

"Not your fault? What kind of a person are you? Of course it will be your fault. You obviously don't want to take responsibility for anything, do you? Well, if he dies it will be on your conscience." Sam replied hotly.

Copeland looked a little uncomfortable at this, but not enough to change his mind.

"Tsokay Captain", gasped out O'Neill. "I can … hold on. Tough… you know!"

"I know Sir. You just make sure you do!"

"Or … what?" he asked with a small smile.

"Or I'll …. I'll kick your ass Sir!"

"Way to go Sam!" Daniel interjected. "You tell him!"

"Enough." Copeland looked towards Daniel. "Put the gun down carefully and kick it over to me. Any fun stuff and I shoot the Colonel – or maybe the Captain depending on where the bullet goes".

Daniel reached into the waist of his pants and pulled out the gun. He then set it down and did as the older man instructed. Once he'd kicked it over Copeland stooped, his eyes on all of them, and picked it up. What he hadn't seen was Sam palm the pocketknife. He'd walked in during her struggle with Hall and hadn't known she had had it.

"How do you plan to keep watch over all of us?" Teal'c asked

"Yes, that's a problem all right. Let me think."

"Come on Copeland, it'll be a lot easier if you let me go. I can help you." Hall begged.

"No, I don't think so Aaron. I kinda like you where I've got you." Looking at his six prisoners he knew this was going to be tricky. There was no way he could stay awake and alert enough to guard them for the next couple of days. He'd have to tie them up securely. He debated for a second as to whether it would be a good idea to release one of his erstwhile comrades. If worse came to worse he would – although that would open up another can of vipers. Looking around the kitchen he saw the pile of nylon cord Beiman had grabbed to tie up the prisoners.

Turning to Daniel, who he figured was probably the least dangerous (even if he had shot Beiman) he pointed to the pile. "Go and get some cord. I want you to tie up your friends. And make sure you do it securely – you clearly know how. I'll check once you're done so no tricks or your Colonel will suffer."

Looking disgusted, Daniel walked and picked up a length of cord. "Sorry Teal'c, I guess you're first."

"Do not worry Daniel Jackson." Teal'c sat in one of the remaining kitchen chairs and placed his hands behind his back. Daniel proceeded to tie him up securely (if it wasn't _**quite**_ as tight as he could do it he would never tell – and neither would Teal'c).

"Legs too." Daniel glared at him but got down and secured Teal'c's legs to the chair.

"Okay, done."

"All right, now the woman."

"Oh come on. She needs to look after Jack."

"Sorry, I can't have one of you on the loose. She's too dangerous."

"Can I just have a quick look at him first? Then Daniel can tie me up."

Copeland considered for a moment and then nodded. He watched as Sam went over and knelt beside the Colonel.

"How you doin' Sir?" she asked softly.

"Okay Captain. Sorry … about this."

"Hey, it's not your fault Sir. I'm just sorry we screwed up and forgot about Copeland."

"No … didn't screw … up. Still ….. a chance." he whispered softly in his breathless voice. She knew he was slowly getting worse although she was amazed at how well he was hanging on.

"Yes Sir … always!" She reached over and squeezed his hand. In his weakness he almost gave it away when he felt an object being pressed into his hand. Fortunately, he was still with it enough to drop his arm back and hide the knife she'd given him in the crack between the cushion and the back of the couch.

"All right, enough. Jackson, tie her up. Hands first then sit in the big chair."

Sighing an angry sigh Sam did as he said and went towards Daniel who tied her hands behind her back, again with a short apology.

"Don't worry Daniel, we'll get out of this."

"Yeah Sam, of course", he answered unconvincingly.

Once her hands were tied she sat in the chair, trying to find the most comfortable position.

"Feet – tie 'em to the chair legs."

So Daniel again knelt down and tied her ankles to the short legs of the big chair. Copeland clearly didn't know much about tying people up if he thought this would stop Sam. It wouldn't take very much for her to get her legs free from the stubby wooden legs.

"Okay Jackson, now your turn. Sit down and put your hands behind your back." Daniel walked up to the one remaining kitchen chair and sat down. Putting his hands back he waited for Copeland to begin tying him up. He knew that that was his chance – when Copeland had the ropes in his hands he'd have to put the gun down.

"Sorry Jackson", Bob walked over and smashed his gun on the back of Daniel's head. The younger man slouched, unconscious and would have fallen forward, off the chair, if Copeland hadn't grabbed him.

"What the hell did you do that for?" shouted Sam.

He just looked at her and shrugged. "I'm not stupid Captain. He would have tried to stop me."

"No, you're not stupid - you're just a man without a conscience."

He laughed – albeit a humorless one. "What did having a conscience ever get me or anyone else? No, money is better than a conscience any day." As he spoke he tied Daniel to the chair. First, tying his hands behind him he then went on to his legs. Finally, he took more of the cord and wound it around Daniel's chest, effectively securing him to the chair. This would be almost impossible to escape. He then went and did the same for the others, except Sam. Her chair was too big and awkward shaped to do the same. This fact gave her hope that she'd be able to get free.

Finally finished he walked over to the Colonel and looked down. "Do I need to tie you up too Colonel?" When O'Neill didn't answer Copeland reached down and slapped him gently on the face. The Air Force officer's head just lolled to the side – he was unconscious – no longer able to deal with the pain, the weakness, the fever and the lack of oxygen.

"I guess not. You poor bugger you – you're not going to last long are you?" Turning he then walked back to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Drinking deeply he thought about where he'd ended up. Having seen the interaction between the four Air Force friends, he wondered at their friendship and sense of loyalty. Bemoaning the fact that he didn't receive the same from anyone he knew, he didn't realize that to receive those things you also had to give them.

Loyal to no one, having only ever looked out for himself, Copeland had never experienced what it was to give or receive loyalty. Now, looking at these four, he resented what they had and convinced himself that he was doing only what he had to to watch out for himself. No one else would.

He turned and looked back at the people, tied or injured, who were all looking at him with expressions of hatred or contempt. Yeah – no one understood him. He'd been the victim all his life, he thought, now he was taking control.

Walking back he rechecked the bindings on each of his prisoners. He knew very well that they'd all try and get loose so he had to check regularly. Sighing, he sat down on the table.

Daniel groaned and lifted his head. Great, now he had a headache to end all headaches. Turning, he looked over at the sophisticated man who was now their sole captor. "So, are you going to tell us finally, what this is all about?" he asked. He couldn't figure this man out. He didn't act like a career criminal.

Copeland looked at him and took another sip of water but didn't say anything.

"Yeah Bob. Why don't you tell them what this is all about? Tell them how an upstanding guy like you got into this position." Hall threw in.

When the man refused to speak Hall continued talking. "Good old Bob Copeland – he's Dr. Copeland, did you know that?" he looked at SG1 one, who all looked at the man on the table in surprise. "Oh, not a Doctor, Doctor - he's a professor – or a teacher really. Yeah, Bob here was headmaster at a ritzy boy's school outside of Denver. Weren'tcha Bob?"

When the man still didn't say anything, Hall continued. "Yeah – it was a _**very**_ exclusive place. It's where the rich folks sent their brats. Lot's of money and connections. And Bob here got used to hangin' with all these hoity toity rich people. Tell 'em what happened next." He looked over to Copeland who was staring down at his cup.

"Tell 'em how they decided to get rid of you. Yeah, Copeland here had a run in with one of the Trustees. He'd caught the man's kid cheating and kicked him out. Daddy said 'no way' and instead insisted that Bob be the one to go. When he found out old Doc Bob decided to take a little severance 'bonus'. He raided the school building fund. What was it Bob – about $10 Million? Yup – he figured they owed him so he took it. Only problem was, they found out about it too soon. They sent an auditor around on Bob's last day. That's when he ran to Beiman. Doug was the history teacher at the school." Daniel looked over at Beiman in shock upon hearing this. He would never have suspected the man of being an academic.

"Yeah – he went to Beiman – thought the man was his friend. Well, Beiman came to me – we knew each other year's ago – did a little business together. He figured I'd know a way out for Copeland in return for a little of the money. I knew we had to hide out for a while as everyone would be looking for Bob. I remembered Jim O'Reilly tellin' us about this place when we were over in Iraq. I went and saw him to make sure he still had it and that no one would be here over the holidays. When it looked like it was going bo be clear we came up here for a few days. After a while we were going to head down to Mexico where I'd get a new identity for Bob."

He looked again at the former headmaster and smiled at him. "So, that's the story. Robert Copeland – head of a rich kid's school – and now fugitive from justice and soon to be murderer."

At this Copeland finally looked up, anger on his face. "I'm no murderer Hall. That's your department. You're the one who wanted to get rid of O'Neill. I wanted no part of any violence. You and Doug – you're the ones without a conscience, so don't blame me."

"You don't get it do you Bob", Beiman spoke up for the first time, clearly in pain but not doing too badly since the bullet hadn't hit anything vital. "You're just as bad as we are. Worse even. You like to pretend that you're not – that you're divorced from all this – but you're every bit as responsible. If O'Neill dies you'll be held guilty along with the rest of us. You like to think you're better than us but you're not. You're a bad man Bob – a criminal. Might as well get used to it for this is who you'll be for the rest of your life. You know the old saying – 'you made your bed – now you have to lie in it."

Copeland stood up and quickly walked to the window. Opening the curtain he leaned his head against the cold window. He hadn't wanted this. He just wanted to lead a simple life. He'd thought he'd made it when he was put in charge of Loyola Academy. He should have known what it would be like dealing with people who had so much money they did what they pleased and didn't care about anyone else. He should have just let the damn kid alone. Turning back to face the occupants of the room he spoke.

"Enough – shut up Hall unless you want me to gag you. We're just going to sit here until the weather clears and then I'll be gone. I'll go get my money and you'll never hear from me again." He walked over and did another check of the ropes. Pulling up a lone stool, he reached down and picked up the playing cards that were scattered on the ground. Collecting them all he slowly shuffled them and laid them out for his own game of solitaire. It was going to be a long day.

Daniel, Sam and Teal'c sat quietly, occasionally looking at each other and speaking in soft tones. They more often than not looked towards their commander, worried about his condition. He remained unconscious or asleep, they didn't know which, but he was still alive as they could see his chest rise and fall as he struggled to breath. Every once in awhile he let out a strangled cough which sounded increasingly congested.

"Oh God Sam, what are we going to do?" Daniel asked quietly. "I feel so guilty. We should have had him out of here by now."

"I know Daniel, I know. I feel bad too. We have to figure a way out. Have you had any luck with getting loose."

"No, not really. I'm afraid that even if I do he'll just come and check. He's obviously the smartest one of the bunch."

"Yeah, that's my fear too. Teal'c, what about you?"

"I too am working at it Captain Carter. I also believe that he will check on us."

Sam let out a soft snort of frustration. They had to do something, but what. She looked over to the other two men who had started this thing. Beiman was also unconscious or asleep and Hall was resting, his eyes opening occasionally. He wasn't sleeping but appeared to be dozing. She glanced back at the Colonel and was surprised to see him awake and looking at her.

"Colonel, how are you doing Sir?" He smiled a crooked little smile and gave a small shrug. For the Colonel that meant he wasn't doing well at all. If he had been it would have been a quick 'fine'. She really was worried.

"Hey Bob", she called. He looked up. "Can you give Colonel O'Neill a glass of water? I should also give him some more medicine. He's in pain."

Copeland considered it for a moment. He then stood up and got a glass of water. Walking to O'Neill he leaned down. Putting he arm behind the officer he helped him sit up slightly and put the glass to him mouth.

"Slowly. You don't want to choke." He gave the Colonel a number of small sips until Jack finally turned his head away, unable to take any more.

Laying Jack back down on the pillows he turned to Carter. "Where's the medicine?"

"In my bag, over there", she nodded with her head. "There's morphine and needles in there. Just give him half a vial – if we're going to be here for a while we'll need to stretch it out."

Again Copeland moved, getting the bag. He pulled out the medicine and carefully read the instructions. Once done he took out a needle, opened it and filled it from one of the remaining vials. Taking an alcohol wipe he pulled O'Neill's sleeve up, wiped his upper arm and injected the morphine.

"There, that should help." He pulled the sleeve back down and stood up.

"Thanks", the Colonel whispered.

"No problem. I didn't want you to be hurt, you know. It really was the other two. I just wanted to get away, that's all."

"I … understand." Jack gasped, praying that the morphine would take affect soon. "don't … blame you." He team mates looked up in surprise at that. What was Jack doing? This wasn't like him at all. He had no tolerance for people like Copeland. If anything, he preferred the plain old fashioned, self-proclaimed bad guy to those who tried to pretend, to themselves as much as to others, that they were really good . Guys like Bob were the worst kind of hypocrites, as far as Jack was concerned, and he had nothing but contempt for them.

Copeland looked at him in surprise. This was the first bit of sympathy he'd received and it was soothing to his battered soul.

"Hard dealing … with …. Assholes." Who Jack meant, whether it was the school Trustees or Hall and Beiman, his team wasn't sure. What was obvious, however, was that Copeland was hearing what he wanted to hear.

"Yes, it is. I tried really hard Colonel. You know what it's like. I was good at my job - they were happy with me. It was only that snot nosed little brat who thought he could get by with what he wanted to because of his rich Daddy."

"He was right, wasn't he?" threw in Hall.

Jack ignored Hall and kept his focus on Copeland. He was starting to feel better, the morphine was kicking in.

"Have to … deal with …. those kind in the … Air Force … too. Hard!"

"I bet you do. Do you have Mommy and Daddy rushing to the rescue when one of your men or women do something wrong?"

"All the … time." Sam and Daniel looked surprised at this. They didn't ever remember a case like that. Now, it could have been true before Jack's SGC days – but the type of men and women that worked the program would not have had their parents rushing to help them. In fact, the parents wouldn't even know enough about the program to rush in for anything.

"So, what do you do in the Air Force Colonel?" Bob hadn't heard the previous discussion as he had been in his room.

"The Colonel and all of us are in Deep Space Radar Telemetry", Carter wanted to keep O'Neill from having to speak too much. She knew it was difficult for him.

"Deep Space … really? That sounds – interesting." Copeland sounded less than sincere.

"They put old O'Neill out to pasture. Just like they were going to do to you Bob. He wasn't useful anymore so they gave him a meaningless desk job and gave him these losers to help. The woman's his secretary and bed mate. The big guy's from some gang – he's obviously been on drugs and his brain's been affected. The other guy – well, he's just some geek or something. I'd ignore them Copeland. They're a pathetic bunch."

"Not so pathetic that they weren't able to turn the tables on you Hall. I expect they're a lot smarter than you think. They're certainly a lot smarter than you – mind you, that's not hard."

Hall turned away, furious at the way things had gone. He thought he'd found a g reat deal, now he was worried about where he'd end up. The last thing he wanted was to see Copeland bond with O'Neill. He'd have to figure something out.

"So, you and the Captain are an item are you? You're lucky – she's an attractive woman. I expect she's smart too."

Sam expected another denial from O'Neill but when it didn't come she sat there surprised. Okay, the Colonel was definitely up to something.

"Yeah … very …. smart. Keeps me in … line."

Copeland laughed. It was good to have a conversation with someone with some sense, even if the man was dying.

"That's what a good woman does. Nice to have some other benefits as well." He gave O'Neill a 'man to man' kind of smirk. Jack wanted to stand up and pummel the man but instead gave him a grin in return. Yeah – let him think they were doing some male 'bonding'.

"How are you feeling?" Bob asked the Air Force officer.

"Better – thanks."

"Good. You just rest. In a couple of days you'll be in hospital and everything will be fine." Both men knew this was a lie. There was no way Jack would make it that long.

Standing up, the disgraced headmaster made his way back to the kitchen. He looked at the clock and realized that morning had come. Due to the storm it was still dark but it would start getting light soon. Hungry, he started rummaging around for some food.

"Pancakes! Hey, anyone want any?" he turned and looked at his prisoners. Daniel glared back.

"What, you gonna start treating us like guests now? In that case yes, I'd like pancakes oh, and how about some bacon? And a nice cup of coffee would be great. And, while you're at it, could you take off these ropes. I appreciate the thought but they're really not necessary."

Copeland stopped what he was doing and looked at Daniel. Yes, he had tried to make this seem not so bad. He could pretend couldn't he?

"There's no need to be sarcastic. I don't have to feed you at all." He answered calmly.

"Forgive my friend – he gets a little snarky when he hasn't had his coffee." Sam glared at Daniel. Don't piss him off, her eyes said. He shrugged in return. Okay, but this was difficult.

"Yeah – sorry. Sam's right. I need my caffeine in the morning."

"Okay, I'll make some fresh coffee and some pancakes. I'm afraid I'll have to feed you each one at a time. Can't chance letting you loose."

"What about the bathroom?" asked Sam. No way was she going to let this man do _**that**_ for her.

"We'll deal with that when we have to. For now, pancakes."

So, they all sat in the cabin, in the most bizarre situation any of them could ever remember. Kidnapped, held captive, their captor was making them pancakes with syrup for breakfast. Colonel, she thought, you really do pick interesting vacations!

She kept glancing at O'Neill and was surprised to see the calculating look on his face. Okay Sir, what are you planning?

"Sir", she whispered, trying to get his attention without Copeland noticing. He didn't look at her but continued to contemplate the man in the kitchen.

"Sir. …. Colonel", she called, a bit more loudly. At that he turned and looked at her. She winced, his face was pasty and big black smudges circled his eyes. She could see more blood seep from the side of his mouth. For all that, he smiled at her.

God Sir – you're incredible. Hall had been right – never count Jack O'Neill out.

Glancing quickly at Copeland she saw his back was turned to them as he mixed the batter. She then looked back at the Colonel and mouthed "what?"

He too looked at Copeland, then at Hall and Beiman. When it was clear none of them were paying any attention to him he looked down at the couch, beside him. He then looked back up at Sam and gave a small grin.

Oh Sir – what can you do?, she thought. You're too weak. But she smiled back at him and nodded. Who knew – maybe he could do something.

Breakfast took a long time as Copeland fed them all individually. Fortunately, pancakes were easy to make and serve. He then gave them all sips of coffee. When he was done he took each of the men to the bathroom. Refusing to untie them it was a difficult – and embarrassing – process but he knew his life was at stake. When it came to Sam he wasn't quite sure what to do.

Copeland had never been married although he'd had a couple of short term girlfriends. Still, he wasn't very comfortable around women and the thought of helping the Captain was just too uncomfortable.

"I'll let you loose but I'm gonna have to keep an eye on you. Don't try anything okay? I don't want to hurt you."

"Okay", she agreed. Right now she would have agreed to anything, she had to go so badly. Oh to be a man, she thought. They seemed to be able to hold on forever.

Copeland released her legs first and allowed her to stand and stretch. After a few seconds he motioned for her to head to the bathroom. Once there he had her turn around so he could undo the bindings.

"Okay – five minutes. I'm keeping the door open so don't try anything."

Knowing this was the best she was going to get Sam quickly entered and sat. While she was going she looked around to see if there was anything she could grab. Unfortunately, she'd never learned to kill using a tooth brush – and the shampoo, deodorant and towels didn't hold out any ideas. She'd already got the first aid kit and all that was left was her make-up kit. Again, attacking someone with a mascara wand or pair of tweezers just wasn't going to cut it. Sighing, she stood up and pulled her pants back up. Washing her hands she headed to the doorway.

"Keep your hands up where I can see them", Bob's voice came through the open doorway. At least he hadn't looked – there was some decency to the man.

"Okay, my hands are up. I'm coming out." He told her to turn around and retied her hands. He then motioned for her to sit in the chair again.

"Okay, what'm I going to do with you folks." Copeland knew it was going to be difficult. He hadn't really slept and he was feeling exhausted. He was fully aware that if he didn't keep an eye on them, one of them, at least, would get free. That would be the end of him. Turning, he walked into the bedroom with the bunk beds. Looking around, he had an idea.

He began to move some of the furniture out of the room. Grabbing the dresser he pulled it into the living room. He then returned and pulled everything but the bed out. Going back in he looked around. Yes, this would work. . The window was much too small for an adult – even the woman – to crawl through and there was nothing else in the room anyone could use.

Returning to the living room he walked over to Teal'c. Might as well start with the biggest one. Moving to the back of the chair he tilted it towards himself and began to drag the big man into the small bedroom. It was rough going – he weighed a ton. When he got to the bedroom he pulled Teal'c to the bed frame. He then went out and got some more of he nylon rope. Returning, he tied Teal'c hands to the frame. That should add an extra layer of safety.

Moving back to the outer room he proceeded to do the same with each of his prisoners. He tied each one to the frame of the solid bed – but far enough away from each other so that they couldn't loosen each other's ropes. He'd managed to put the men at each corner of the frame.

Now for the woman, - what to do with her?

In the living room he looked down at her thinking. Finally making a decision he said, "I think you'd better come with me." He reached down and grabbed her arm. Pulling her to her feet he marched her into the bedroom – the one that had been hers.

"Turn around", he instructed. She looked at him fearfully. What was he planning?

"Don't worry – I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not that kind of man. I'm just going to tie you to the bed. I've gotta rest and I can't have you escaping. I thought you'd prefer being in here. It'll be more comfortable."

Breathing a sigh of relief she turned around. The former school teacher then released her wrists and instructed her to lie down. When she did so he took each of her arms and lifted them above her head. He then tied each wrist to a corner of the wrought iron frame. He then tied her ankles in the same way. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but it was better than lying on bound hands.

As Copeland left the room, Sam thought about the Colonel. What was going to happen to him?

All right, he thought, almost finished and then I can rest. He grabbed a couple of knives and jammed them between the doors and the frames of the two bedrooms. That way, even if they got free, they'd have to force the door open – which would be noisy.

Finally, he walked over to O'Neill. Surprisingly the man was still awake. He was lying there, simply breathing shallowly and watching Copeland.

"What am I going to do with you? Hall says to watch out for you – that you're a tricky one. But I must say, you don't look like you could do anything right now."

"Can't", Jack gasped out. "Broken … back" okay, so maybe he exaggerated a bit. "Internal … injuries. Wish I ….could … but … no way."

"Yeah – however, I'll feel a bit better to just make sure." Turning, he went and got the last, couple of pieces of rope. Returning, he grabbed Jack's arms and pulled them together - which had the unfortunate affect of squeezing his ribs.

"Aaaargh!" he choked in pain.

"Sorry – no choice." Copeland then bound Jack's wrists together – fortunately in front. Jack knew that if he'd pulled them behind it probably would have killed him. Copeland then finished by binding his ankles together. This too created pain as it shifted his hip.

"Oh God", he gasped. Almost blacking out, he watched as their captor – a school teacher no less - turned and left the room to get some sleep.

Once the man had left, Jack moved his bound hands towards the crack between the cushion and the back of the couch. He grit his teeth as pain shot through his chest. Holding back a groan, he reached down and tried to grasp the knife. Come on Jack, he said to himself – you can do it.

It was now up to him.


	9. escape

**_Sorry for no chapter last night - I wanted to but couldn't manage it. Unfortunately I'm going back north for Thanksgiving and I probably won't be able to update for a few days since I'm spending the Thanksgiving holiday with my family. I hope you enjoy this chapter and yes - I freely admit it - I am evil to leave you with this one! I hope you enjoy, and please don't shoot me!_**

All he had to do was get the ropes off and he could go and release Sam. It shouldn't be too hard, he said to himself, he'd gotten out of much worse situations. Okay, maybe not with these kind of injuries – but it's not like he had to travel miles across a desert – or even up a cliff. No, this should be relatively easy.

By the time he finally felt the knife, he was not only sweating, he was wheezing and coughing. The twisting motion it took to get his bound hands down the side of the cushions felt like it was crushing his chest.

There! He'd grabbed it, now to bring it around to the front without dropping it. He slowly moved his hands back, holding the knife between his fingers. He didn't have a tight grip on it so he moved slowly, scared that he might lose it.

Once he'd gotten his hands back to the front he rested. Trying to catch his breath he worried that he'd pass out from lack of air. Thank God Sam had insisted on more morphine. At least the pain was bearable.

Okay, now to open the damn thing! It wasn't that he couldn't grasp it properly; it's just that his hands were so shaky. After struggling for a moment it popped open, the tip stabbing him in the thumb.

Grimacing, he worked it around until the blade was facing the rope. He began to move it back and forth. The nylon cord was resistant but it slowly started to fray.

Concentrating so hard on the rope he missed the opening of the bedroom door. It wasn't until he heard Copeland clear his throat that he realized the man had entered the room. Jack immediately dropped his hands, covering the knife. Pray to God the man hadn't seen him.

"How are you doing Colonel?" the man asked, rubbing his eyes. He'd had a short nap but was too nervous to sleep for long. This could be a problem, Jack worried.

"Okay", he coughed. "just takin' it easy … while held captive and … tied on a couch. How about … you Bob?"

Copeland frowned and didn't answer. He simply walked over to Sam's bag and pulled out some of the first aid supplies until he found the Tylenol. Dropping three into his hand he walked to the kitchen and got a drink of water to down them. He paused for a moment, hands on the counter. He was clearly a man who was having trouble dealing with the situation in which he found himself.

"I didn't really want this to happen Colonel." He spoke without turning around. "I didn't want anyone to be hurt. It all got out of hand. I don't know what to do."

"Just … let us go. It'll be better … otherwise you'll have to … keep running …. forever."

With a heavy sigh Copeland pushed himself away from the counter and turned around. Walking over to Jack he looked down. "You don't understand. I can't go to prison. I'd never survive. If there were any other way out I'd take it. I'm sorry your going to end up being the victim here – there's just nothing else I can do."

Knowing that nothing he said would convince this man to change his mind Jack stopped talking. He closed his eyes, just hoping that the man would leave.

"I'm gonna go check on your Captain. I suspect she's the one I need to keep the closest eye on." In actuality, Copeland was fascinated with Sam. He found himself attracted to her and wanted to see her again. Something too about her being bound to the bed had excited him. He turned and walked to her room.

"Leave … her alone … Copeland. She can't hurt … you." Jack had seen the look in the man's eyes and was terrified for Sam. This man was walking on the edge and it wouldn't take much for him to go over. He didn't want Carter hurt in the process.

"Don't worry O'Neill. I won't hurt your woman. I just want to talk to her for a while. I can't sleep and you are too sick so I'll sit with her. Just relax."

God – how could he relax knowing that that bastard was in there with her? At least it got the headmaster out of the room but it scuppered any chance of getting her to help him. He could try releasing Teal'c and Daniel but was worried what the other men would do. He figured they might try to warn Copeland.

What to do? He had immediately started in again on the ropes, as soon as Copeland had removed the knife from the door and entered Sam's room. He pulled the door behind him, leaving it only slightly ajar. Jack could hear the soft voices from the two although what they were saying was indistinct.

Working as quickly as he could he thought about his options. He could try and get up and tackle Copeland when he came out of the room but quickly discarded that idea. He was as weak as a baby and it wouldn't take anything to overpower him.

He'd already decided that Daniel and Teal'c were out. Well, that left Jack O'Neill! He knew that he wouldn't make it very far but he figured he might just be able to make it to his truck. From there, he could try and drive at least until he got a signal on his cell phone. There was no signal at the cabin, surrounded as it was by mountains. He knew if he drove a few miles he could try and pick one up. If worse came to worse, he'd attempt to make it to Frank's Café.

It wasn't a perfect scenario – first, he didn't know if he could even walk as far as the truck. Second, he worried about what Copeland would do when he discovered him gone (if he didn't discover him too soon anyway). Third – whether or not he could drive was iffy. His truck was big and could be hard to handle.

At least he had an extra set of keys hidden under the car. They were in a place that would be almost impossible for anyone else to find. He promised himself that if they got out of this he'd show the rest of his team in case they ever got into this mess again. He cursed himself over the fact that he'd kept it quiet. Fortunately, he'd had his keys with him but next time he might not.

Just as he had that thought the rope snapped and his wrists were free. Pulling himself up to a sitting position, he struggled to lean down and cut the ropes around his ankles.

"God!" he groaned and had to press his lips together to keep from losing his meager breakfast. The movement caused such pain in his abdomen that a wave of nausea flooded through him.

Breathing slowly he waited until the feeling had passed. This time he moved more slowly but finally was able to cut the ropes. As soon as his ankles were free he leaned back. Eyes closed he waited until the room stopped spinning before working on his next move.

All right O'Neill, you gotta get your butt off this couch. Again, very slowly, he moved his legs over the side. He could feel something grating in his hip – but convinced himself the pain was bearable. Once he feet were on the ground, his arm held tightly against his stomach, he knew he'd reached the critical point.

Could he stand? He didn't know. When they'd brought him into the living room he hadn't been able to put much weight on his good leg, let alone the bad one. But, he really had no choice. He had to try.

Pushing up on the arm of the couch, and using it for support, he slowly, carefully got to his feet. Putting weight only on his good leg he stood, watching as spots danced across his eyes.

Here we go, he thought, first step is the hardest Jack after that it's … the next step, he laughed softly to himself. Taking as deep a breath as he could without collapsing in a coughing fit, he moved his leg forward.

"So Captain", Copeland entered the bedroom, pulling the door behind him. He walked over to the bed and looked down at the woman who lay spread eagled and tied to the bed frame.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She looked at him with disgust and refused to answer.

"Look, I told your Colonel I was sorry – I didn't want this to happen. I didn't mean for any of you to get hurt. I'm sorry."

"Sorry does nothing", she answered contemptuously. "Letting us go would mean something – empty words don't do a thing."

"I can't", he cried in despair. "I want to, really I do. But if I let you go you'll either kill me or have me arrested, which would be just as bad. Don't you see – I can't do that. I _**am**_ sorry."

She turned away, refusing to look at him. She would hold this man responsible, along with the other two, if the Colonel died. If that happened she'd make sure she tracked Copeland down and made him pay!

He moved over and sat on a small stool he pulled up to the bed. Reaching out he put a hand on Sam's knee.

"What are you doing?", she said angrily, "don't touch me."

"I'm not going to hurt you Captain. I'm not such a bad guy, really. Just talk to me for a while. You're intelligent – these other guys are idiots and I need someone I can relate to."

"Do you always tie up women you want to speak with? Is that the only way you can get them to pay attention to you?"

This made him angry. He pulled his hand back and looked at her. Wanting to strike out he began to speak.

"Little miss 'hoity toity' aren't you? Think you're too good for me? Well, I know what you're doing. I know you're sleeping with your commanding officer and I know that's not allowed. What would happen if I made an anonymous call and told the Air Force what was happening. That'd be the end of your career, wouldn't it?" he sneered.

"No, because it's not true." She answered calmly. "The Colonel and I don't have a relationship and we've never acted inappropriately."

"That's not what you told Hall." He answered.

"I lied."

"Why?" When she didn't answer he asked again, "why would you lie about a thing like that?" he asked confused.

"Because Hall was obsessed with it and wouldn't have let me look after the Colonel otherwise. I assure you, the Colonel and I are friends and colleagues, nothing more."

He looked at her for a moment, feeling a strange sense of relief at her words. After a couple of seconds, however, a niggling doubt crept into his mind. Considering this woman he couldn't quite bring himself to believe that she was telling the truth. He'd seen the chemistry between these two. He wouldn't believe that they hadn't acted on that.

"You're lying Captain", he spit out. "You and the Colonel have a thing going, it's obvious to all of us. Even if you haven't actually slept together he's crazy about you. He wants to get between your legs very badly."

She could feel herself flush at the man's crude words. She knew he was only trying to get back at her, that it wasn't really true – the Colonel wasn't interested in her like that …. was he? No Sam, you shouldn't think that way. Jack O'Neill had never been anything but a gentleman and doesn't think of you that way.

Looking down at this very attractive woman Copeland suddenly gave a bark of laughter. "You can't even see it can you Captain? You must be pretty naïve if you don't know when a man has it bad for you. Take it from another man – O'Neill worships the ground you walk on. He'd do anything for you." He stared at her for another few seconds. "And you'd do the same for him, wouldn't you?" The thought made him feel incredibly sad. He had no one in his life who would even care that much if he disappeared. There was no one who loved him, who wanted him, who would sacrifice all for him. As much as he pitied the Colonel, and this woman in front of him, he knew they were both luckier than he was.

Speaking more gently, the anger gone, the middle aged, lonely and lost man added, "I do believe you, you know Samantha. I don't think you and the Colonel have done anything wrong. I think you're both honorable people – but I mean it when I say he cares for you. You're pretty lucky and so is he. Not many people are lucky enough to have what you two have, even if it's not as much as you'd like it to be."

Hearing the regretful tone in his voice Sam turned her head and contemplated her captor. Seeing him not just as the corrupt, despicable man she had thought he was, but rather as a weak man who had been driven down the wrong path by his choices in life, she was able to consider him more objectively.

"What are you going to do?" she asked quietly. "How do you possibly think you can get away with this?"

He took a deep breath, "I don't know if I can, but I have to try. I still have the money I took", he laughed harshly. "That oughta buy me a new life."

"But will it be a life you want? You'll have to hide for the rest of your life. You won't be able to see any of your friends – or family if you have any – again. Is that really what you want?"

"It'll probably be better than what I have." He answered. "Maybe I can start over, be a better person than I am now." He looked almost hopeful.

"I don't think you can start something good based on a rotten foundation", she said softly. "If the Colonel dies how will you be able to live with yourself, knowing that you were responsible for an innocent man's - a good man's - death? Will it have been worth it?"

He shook his head slowly and stood up. "No", he answered softly, "probably not. But I'm too much of a coward to consider the alternative. I will probably regret this the rest of my life, but at least I'll be alive and free." Turning away and walking to the door he suddenly stopped. Without looking at Sam he spoke softly,

"If there was anything I could do to change things for you I would." On those words he stepped through the door.

The Colonel had made his way slowly across the room, holding on to anything he could to support himself. It meant that he couldn't go straight to the door but had to circle the room. This took longer than he wanted and he worried that at any moment Copeland would appear. He didn't hear anything other than soft voices so he figured Sam was okay. He just needed to make it out the door.

By the time he'd arrived at the door, either the morphine had worn off, or it simply wasn't able to mask the pain sufficiently any more. He hip was throbbing, pain and needles shooting down his leg. It felt like his stomach and chest were on fire. He had the bizarre thought that at any moment he'd see flames shoot from his mouth just like a dragon. His lungs – well, best not even think about them – that would simply make him want to cough which, once he started he knew it would be impossible to stop.

He could feel moisture dripping from the corner of his mouth. When he went to wipe it away he could see that his fingers were red. Just like Antarctica – the bleeding was clearly getting worse.

The other pains – from cuts, scrapes, bruises, sprains, concussion, etc, etc, etc, - he just tried to ignore. He knew he was a mess, from head to toe. Right now all that didn't matter, except as it kept him from attaining his goal.

Speaking of keeping him from his goal – there was one very important thing he's forgotten. He wasn't wearing shoes and there were no boots or coats anywhere.

Crap and double crap, he swore to himself. That meant a very cold walk to the car. Oh well, what was a little frostbite along with everything else? His primary goal in life seemed to be to keep Janet Frasier employed. Between Daniel and him he figured the good doctor earned every penny of her Air Force salary!

"Okay", he whispered to himself, "here goes." Turning the knob slowly, he cursed when it stuck. Turning it with a bit more force it finally opened, but with a soft 'crack'. He waited a second to see if Copeland had heard but the voices continued from the bedroom. He slowly, painstakingly opened the door until it was wide enough to squeeze through.

Holding on to the door for support, he put his good leg forward. "Damn! That was cold", he muttered as he set his foot down in the deep snow on the porch. God, he'd forgotten about the storm. Although it looked like it was dying down it had dumped a huge amount of snow. He just prayed his truck could make it through. He wouldn't even have time to clear it off.

Now came the tricky part. How to make it to the truck without something to hang on to? His leg had become weaker as he'd moved. He figured he'd really displaced something!

Just as he wondered whether he'd even be able to do this he saw something over to the side of the porch that made him grin. Knowing that this could mean the difference between him being able to get help or not he spared a quick thought for his friend. Jim, he said to the night, I love you man!

Leaning against the side of the house he sidled over to where a tall walking stick was resting in the corner. He knew that Jim was into hiking and he had fashioned himself this stick to help him on his walks through the steep terrain around the cabin.

It only took a couple of steps to reach the stick. Once he'd grabbed it it made his walking slightly easier. He was able to put more weight on the stick and drag his now useless leg forward. He started on his trek to the truck, which was only about twenty feet away, but those twenty feet looked more like a mile to the injured and hurting man.

Step by weary, and freezing, step he made his way forward. With each movement he prayed that Copeland didn't discover his escape. He kept expecting, at any moment, to hear a shout and have the man come running.

When he reached his truck he collapsed against it, but only for a moment – the metal door was freezing! Making his way around to the driver's side he stopped. How in hell was he going to get the key? It meant getting down on the ground and getting under the truck. Sighing, he knew he had no choice. He just hoped he could get back up!

Sticking his wounded leg out in front of him (God, that hurt!) he lowered himself to the ground. Now not just his feet would be wet – his butt would be soaked too! Finally, lying on the ground he reached underneath the vehicle. He knew stretching his arm out was going to be fun as it put added pressure on his lungs and made him start to cough.

Coughing up blood, wanting to black out from pain, lying on freezing snow in only a sweat suite with no shoes – yup Jack – you know how to spend Thanksgiving all right.

"There", he gasped between coughs. He'd retrieved the little magnetic box which held his spare key. Pulling his arm back he curled over, the pain spiking so badly that he whimpered. I can't do this, he thought. But then, the thought of his friends popped into his mind – of course he could do this. He had no choice.

Once his coughing was under control he pulled himself out from under the car. Reaching up and grasping a tire he began to pull himself to his feet – or foot. Sobbing, he finally returned to a semi-standing position.

Hands shaking, it took a while before he could get his key into the lock. Damn, the lock was frozen! Jiggling it for a minute it finally clicked. He reached to the frozen handle and pulled the door open.

A cascade of snow fell on top of him and into the car. It succeeded in thoroughly soaking those few remaining places on his body that weren't already wet. leveraging himself into the car he sat for a minute, shaking badly, sobbing and almost passing out.

Closing the door behind him, he left it slightly ajar so as not to make noise. He now faced the problem of starting it (pray that it was able to start in this cold). Then, there was the very serious detail of how he was going to drive with his right leg out of commission. He'd just have to use his left, which was going to be awkward in the extreme.

"Here goes, Jack", he mumbled. Closing his eyes, he reached over and turned the key. After one brief moment of silence and panic, the car grumbled and then roared to life. At precisely that moment he heard a shout. Looking up, he saw Copeland racing towards him.

**_Sorry - I said I was eeeeeeviiiill!_**


	10. Calling George

**_I hope all my US readers had a wonderful Thanksgiving! I didn't think I'd get a chance to update but found myself with a few hours so here it is. I hope you enjoy. I'm sorry for my 'evilness' in leaving you with a cliff hanger and thank you for continuing to review_**

He threw the truck in gear and pressed down on the gas pedal with his left foot. It didn't move. The deep snow had blocked it in. Looking up at Copeland, who was slipping and sliding his way over, Jack again pressed on the pedal. This time he felt the truck move slightly. He lifted his foot and pressed again, hoping the rocking motion would get it moving. At the last second he remembered to reach over and lock the door.

Just as he did so he looked through the side window and met Copeland's eyes. The man was standing there, not knowing quite what to do. Jack gave it some gas, one more time, knowing this was it. The tires finally gripped and the truck shot forward.

As he went careening down the slippery road, barely able to keep the pedal down or the steering wheel under control, Jack glanced in his rear window. Copeland was no longer unsure of what to do. O'Neill saw him standing, gun pointed at the car. He felt, rather than saw, the bullet hit the rear window of the truck, smashing it.

The second bullet hit the back of his seat, just to the right of where he was sitting. Gasping, knowing he couldn't hold on much longer, he kept driving. All he had to do was get far enough down the road to where he could get a signal on his cell phone. Another shot, this time hitting his outside mirror. One of these times the man wasn't going to miss.

Hold on Jack – you can do it. He was grateful that his truck seemed to be able to make it through the deep snow on the road. He was finding it increasingly difficult to control, however, as he was weakening with every second. He could barely see anymore, his vision tunneling to almost nothing. He just kept focused on the narrow lane between the trees. Just a little farther, just a little farther.

If he'd been able to look behind him he would have seen that Copeland was no longer shooting. Instead, the man was running after the truck. In this weather the truck couldn't travel very fast. He also knew that Jack was almost on his last legs. The Colonel couldn't hold out much longer. He figured that soon the truck would come to a stop – he could then get the Colonel. He couldn't let O'Neill make it down the mountain.

Jack knew he'd reached his limit. He couldn't go any farther. He realized that the truck had slowed almost to a crawl. He was so weak that he couldn't keep his foot on the gas pedal anymore. His breaths were coming in short gasps and wheezes. The pain was getting so bad again that he was having trouble even knowing what was happening. He knew one thing – he had to call for help – to save his team. From what - or whom - he could no longer remember – just that he had to call.

He was not even aware enough to stop the car. His foot simply came off the gas and he sat as the car veered off the road. Fortunately it was going slowly enough so that when it left the track and slammed into the trees at the side the crash wasn't bad enough to do much more than throw him forward against the steering wheel. He sat for a couple of seconds before refocusing on the one urgent thought in his mind – phone!

He slowly reached into the glove compartment and rummaged around until he found his cell. Pulling it out he simply stared at it, trying to figure out why he wanted it. It came back to him that he had to call George – he didn't know why – just that it was important.

Fumbling with the phone he opened it and looked in incomprehension at the buttons. What was he supposed to do? He stared again. Oh yes, George. George wanted him to call him. Why? He didn't know – just that George would be upset if he didn't call.

Couldn't upset George – he was a General. Never wise to upset a General. He hit speed dial but nothing happened.

Why isn't it working, he wondered? George won't be happy. He'll just say that was an excuse. No excuses Colonel! If the General wants you to call you have to call. He tried again. Nothing.

Copeland could see the truck ahead. It had left the road and gone down a shallow ditch into the tree line. The front had slammed into some trees but it didn't look like there was too much damage. He could see the faint outline of the Colonel in the front seat.

Thank God, he thought. The man didn't make it down the mountain. Breathing a sigh of relief Copeland continued to walk towards the truck.

The 'on' button, O'Neill. Turn the damn phone on. Where's Sam when I need her, he thought? She understands 'doohickeys'. She would have reminded me. "Colonel, you have to turn the phone _**on**_ before you use it". See, what would he do without Sam? She was _**his**_ Captain. "Thank you Carter", he thought as he fumbled and turned the phone on.

The display lit up. "_Searching for Service". _He hit the speed dial button. Come on George – you wanted me to call. Pick the phone up.

As he held the phone to his ear Jack lost his last connection to reality. He no longer knew what was happening. His world had tunneled in to one of pain and exhaustion. He looked up and saw, in the rear-view mirror, someone approaching the car.

Thinking to himself 'George doesn't want anyone to know I called'. he threw the phone down onto the floor of the truck where it slipped under the front seat. Collapsing forward, against the steering wheel, his last conscious thought was 'sorry George, I tried.'

Bob tried to open the door of the truck but realized O'Neill had locked it. Looking inside he could see that the man was either unconscious or dead – whichever, he certainly wasn't moving.

Taking his gun he walked around to the passenger side. Using the gun butt he smashed the window and unlocked the door. Opening it, he pulled himself into the cab and slid over to the Colonel. Putting his hand on the wounded man's neck he sat for a second until he felt a faint pulse.

"I don't know how you do it Colonel, but you're still alive. Well, what to do? Should I just leave you here to die in the truck or should I get you back to the cabin?" Knowing that a minute ago he'd tried to shoot this man, he was having trouble with the idea of leaving him to freeze – or bleed – to death. Somehow, shooting a man in a moment of panic was different than this cold-blooded choice to let someone die.

Sighing, he looked at how the truck was sitting. There was no way it was going anywhere without a tow. Well, even on the off-chance that O'Neill regained consciousness (which he didn't think likely), there was no way he was going anywhere in this vehicle. Looking at the pale, fevered face of the man he also recognized that O'Neill could never make it out on his own power. It was a bloody miracle that he'd made it this far.

Reaching down and taking the keys from the ignition (okay, so he figured you couldn't be too careful), he slid out of the truck. He couldn't take O'Neill back on his own so, if he decided to rescue the man, he'd need help. That meant either Doug and Aaron – or O'Neill's friends.

As he turned back to the cabin he glanced back briefly. He had to admire the courage of this man who was willing to go through all of this to save himself and his friends. It was something Bob had rarely seen in his life. He wished, for a second, that the Colonel is someone he could have called friend. Maybe it would have made him a better man.

When he finally arrived back at the Cabin he was shivering from the cold and from having gotten damp. He couldn't imagine how cold O'Neill must be by now. He'd been soaking when Copeland found him. He didn't have a coat on – and he didn't think the man had been wearing boots although he hadn't looked.

He walked to Sam's room and opened the door. He stood looking at her, not saying anything. As she watched him she began to feel nervous. He had a strange look on his face.

"What is it? What's wrong? Is it the Colonel? Is he okay?"

When Copeland didn't answer Sam could feel her heart sink. She knew it. It had to be the Colonel. He was dead! Feeling the tears prick at the back of her eyes she again entreated their captor.

"Please, tell me. Is it the Colonel? Is he …. is he … dead?" She could barely get her self to say the words.

He finally snapped out of his stupor. Standing up taller and taking a deep breath he answered.

"No, he's not dead – not yet. But I don't think it'll be long. He tried to escape and made it a short way in the truck. He crashed it and he's unconscious. I'm debating whether we should bring him back."

Seeing him for the first time, Sam realized that he was wearing a coat and boots and his cheeks were flushed with cold. When his words registered she closed her eyes in relief – he was alive. But then her eyes flew open.

"What do you mean, whether we should bring him back? Of course we should. You can't leave him there to die." She was almost crying, in anger and fear.

"He's going to die anyway – you've gotta know that. He'd hurt too badly and he's getting worse. He went out without a coat for God's sake and he's soaked. Maybe it's more merciful to let him just sleep until he's gone. What's the use of dragging him back here just to let him die."

"What kind of man are you", she cried. "Do you honestly believe you're handing out 'mercy'. You are going to let a good and courageous man die and you think you're doing him a favor? Shame!", she spit. "May you rot in hell for what you are doing."

"Fine!" he shouted back. "I'll go get him and you can sit and watch him die." Turning he walked over to the other room. Okay, if that's what she wanted, that's what he'd do. He'd show her he wasn't some callous criminal. He'd bring O'Neill back and let her look after him.

He opened the door to the room which held the four men. He realized, only seconds after turning the handle, that he'd left them for too long. Anyone of them could have gotten free and been waiting for him. At this point he almost didn't care.

As he took a step into the room he was only marginally relieved to see all of them still tied to the bed, although they'd obviously been trying to loosen their bonds. It looked like Teal'c was the closest to having gotten loose – no surprise there.

"Changed your mind Bob?" asked Hall. "Realize that you need us to get out of here? Come on, let me loose and I can help you. You can't hope to keep all of us locked up. And anyway, I'm the one who knows how to get you to safety."

Copeland just looked at him blankly. How could he ever have agreed to have anything to do with this man? He looked over to Beiman who was leaning up against the bed frame. His face was pale and he looked to be in pain but he was still fully conscious. He hadn't done much to pull his bonds free. His wound kept him from having the strength to do much.

The other two were sitting quietly, simply looking at him with no expressions. Somehow, that bothered him more than anger or recriminations would have. It certainly made him feel guiltier.

Looking at the four men again he made a quick decision. Walking over to Daniel he reached behind him and began loosening his ropes.

"Why are you letting me go?" asked the archaeologist.

Copeland looked up and then down again to the ropes. "O'Neill needs your help."

"What?" Daniel sat up straighter and looked worried. Teal'c also paid closer attention.

"He tried to escape and crashed the truck. I can't bring him back by myself. I need you two to go get him."

"Is he all right?" asked Daniel, clearly sick with worry.

"No, I think he's dying, if he isn't dead already. I thought we should just leave him but the Captain insists we should bring him back." Copeland stepped back, his gun trained on the younger man as Daniel pull the loosened ropes off his wrists.

"You can release your friend as well. It'll take both of you to bring O'Neill back. Just don't try anything – I'm getting better with the gun."

Not stopping to wonder why that was, Daniel hurried over to Teal'c and quickly released the Jaffa.

"I'd also check on Aaron and Doug to make sure they haven't loosed the ropes. We don't want them to get free."

Teal'c turned and tested both men's bonds. He stopped to retie Hall's as the man had managed to loosen them. Beiman was fine.

"Okay, come on. Let's get moving." Daniel stood impatiently.

"All right. You'd better grab some blankets. He was soaked." He motioned both men into the living room. "You", he said to Daniel, "go get your coats and boots. If you're not back in 2 minutes I kill the big guy."

More worried about Jack than about getting free, Daniel hurried in and retrieved their things. Walking out of the room he was already donning his coat. When he reached the living room he threw Teal'c his things.

Once both men were dressed they turned expectantly to Copeland. "Okay, let's go." Daniel pleaded.

Nodding, Bob motioned for the two to precede him out of the house. "Just follow the track. The truck's about half a mile along." The two worried teammates hurried, as fast as they could in the deep snow, down the narrow road, following the recent tire tracks. They hoped to God they'd be in time.

George sat in his favorite chair, a brandy on the table beside him, a warm fire burning, soft music playing and a good book in his hand.

"This is the life", he thought to himself. His daughter, son-in-law and granddaughters were out tonight, visiting the family of some of his granddaughters' school friends. They'd had a wonderful Thanksgiving but he was enjoying the peace and quiet. It was rare, these days, for everything to be calm. No teams were off world right now, the galaxy seemed relatively quiet and he'd felt comfortable about giving everyone the holidays off. Everyone deserved a break – actually, everyone needed a break. It'd been a wild couple of years.

He leaned his head back against the cushion of his favorite chair. Yup, this was definitely something he'd missed. It almost made him wish for retirement. No one bothering him or asking him to make decisions that could mean the salvation or destruction of their world.

Even his favorite (although he'd deny that were anyone to ask him) although most troublesome team were off enjoying a well-deserved vacation. Thank God there was little harm they could come to in a cabin in the mountains.

No sooner had that thought popped into his brain when his cell phone rang. Who the hell would be calling him now, he thought? Walter had his home phone. His cell was only really for emergencies when he was off base or away from home. At first, he couldn't find the damn thing. He hadn't expected a call tonight so had just put it down somewhere.

"There you are", he said, spying it on the coffee table under a magazine. He picked it up and flipped it open.

"Hello", he answered. There was no reply. He spoke again – still no reply. Damn, must be kids! He was just about to hang up when he thought he heard the sound of glass breaking.

"What the hell? Hello. Is anyone there?" At that moment, something made him go silent and listen. He then heard what sounded like a car door opening.

"I don't know how you do it Colonel, but you're still alive. Well, what to do? Should I just leave you here to die in the truck or should I get you back to the cabin?"

Oh God. Something was definitely wrong. He continued to listen but heard only some movement and what sounded like keys being rattled. He than heard a car door slam and silence.

It had to be O'Neill, he thought. Although there were a number of teams off for the holidays, and it could have been a different 'Colonel', the reference to the cabin made it pretty clear who the man had been talking about.

He just wished O'Neill had told him exactly where they were going. He tried to think but could only remember that Jack had said an old friend had a cabin somewhere close to Denver. Where in hell did he say it was?

As he'd been thinking he'd gone to his land line and had called the SGC. Pray to God Walter was still on duty.

After a couple of minutes he made it through to the Sergeant who answered cheerfully. The General was relieved – Walter had a way of handling everything in a competent and unflappable manner.

"Walter, it's Hammond. I think SG1 may be in trouble and I need to locate them. Do you have any idea where they are?" George listened for a moment. "Okay then, get the people at Norad to see if they can track my cell phone. I think the Colonel tried to call me and it sounds like his phone is still engaged. Tell them to hurry, I have no idea how long either of our batteries will last. Okay Walter, thanks." He hung up the phone and stood staring at it. He could go into the mountain but he couldn't do any more there than here. It wasn't as if they were off world so being close to the gate wouldn't help.

Finally, he sat back down, waiting to hear from Walter. His book and drink sitting on the table beside him now held no interest. So much for a relaxing vacation! He laughed softly to himself. Colonel, if you and your team are okay I may just have to shoot you myself. It was only a passing bit of humor, though, as deep down inside he had a very bad feeling about this.

It didn't take long before they came on the truck. It was Teal'c who first saw it in the distance.

"There it is", he pointed. "He was not injured more in the accident?" Teal'c asked. He turned to look at the man following them a few feet behind.

"I don't think so. He was going pretty slowly when he lost control. He was in bad shape though but I think it was just from his previous wounds.

Daniel started trying to run as they grew closer but it was hard going on the slippery snow. He arrived at the truck just before Teal'c with Bob following behind. The school teacher/criminal stood back as the two friends tried to open the door.

"It's locked Daniel Jackson. Try to make it in through the other door and see if you can unlock the driver's door." Daniel ran to the other side and opened the passenger door. Snow had drifted into the car through the smashed window and was covering both the seat and O'Neill.

Daniel slid over towards his friend. Damn, the Colonel looked bad.

"How is he?" asked Teal'c, worried when he saw Daniel unmoving. His voice snapped Daniel out of his shock.

"I don't know Teal'c. He looks … he looks dead." It was true. O'Neill was completely still and pale. The thin dusting of snow made him look like some macabre frozen corpse.

With trepidation he reached over and touched his friend. God, he was freezing. Closing his eyes, saying a prayer to whoever or whatever powers were listening, he reached down to see if he could feel a pulse. He didn't need to however, as O'Neill suddenly moved his head and let out a small groan.

"He's alive Teal'c!" Daniel shouted.

"Open the door and we will take him to the cabin."

Reaching over Jack Daniel flipped the lock. Teal'c quickly opened the door and reached to the Colonel. Gently pulling him back from the steering wheel, he cradled him in his arms.

"Try and pull him towards you Daniel Jackson. I will then take his legs and we will try and straighten him on the seat. We will then need to wrap him in the blankets. He is very cold."

"I know Teal'c." Daniel answered, carefully putting his arms behind Jack's back and taking him from Teal'c. He glanced down. "Oh my God Teal'c – he's got bare feet. How the hell did he make it this far?"

"He is O'Neill", was the big man's only answer. That was the only answer necessary.

Once the two men had managed to lay him across the front seats they carefully wrapped him in the blankets. It was extremely difficult in the cramped and awkward space, but they knew warmth was vital.

"I will pull him out", Teal'c had walked around to the passenger side. It would be easier from that side without the steering wheel in the way. "You get ready to take his legs."

The two men knew they would have to be careful how they carried the Colonel. With his ribs and other internal injuries they wanted to put as little pressure on his chest and abdomen as possible. Normally, Teal'c could have carried him using a fireman hold – it would have been quicker and easier – buy now would have meant O'Neill's death.

Finally they had him out of the truck. Teal'c was holding his upper body, trying to keep him in a semi-erect position. Daniel was carrying his legs. It would be a difficult trip back but at least they had him.

They turned back towards the cabin. "Hold on Jack, hold on."

The phone rang and George practically leapt from his chair.

"Hello. Walter – did they find out where the call came from?" He listened for a couple of seconds.

"Damn! Okay, is there anyone who would know where the Colonel and SG1 have gone? ...… See if you can find him. Get as many people working on it as you can. Something's wrong and somehow I don't think we have much time." He put the phone down.

Hopefully they could track Ferretti down. According to Walter the friend who lent Jack the cabin was someone he'd known in Iraq. Ferretti was one of the few people from the base who'd known Jack then as well. He might know whose cabin SG1 was visiting.

He knew all he could do now was wait. As he sat back in his chair he took a deep breath, "Hold on Jack, hold on."


	11. Old Friends

**_Thank you to all of you who continue to read and review - and thanks for those that are still adding my story to their alert list! I really appreciate it. I'm trying to update this daily and will also be adding another chapter to my "To Love ...series" in the next couple of days. _**

"Okay, take him into the room with the Captain. Put him on the bed." Copeland waved the gun at the two men carrying the Colonel and motioned them into the bedroom.

Daniel was sweating and panting by the time they arrived. Teal'c, of course, didn't look like he had even broken a sweat.

They moved carefully into the cabin and over to the bedroom. Pushing the door open Teal'c walked backwards, still holding his burden carefully. Daniel followed, holding O'Neill's legs.

"Is he okay?" Sam asked from the bed. "Daniel, Teal'c, how is he?" she asked again as neither spoke.

"I believe he is alive, Captain Carter, but I cannot say more than that." The two men carefully laid the Colonel on the bed next to Sam. As Teal'c checked O'Neill over Daniel stood and turned towards their captor.

"Let Sam go. She's the one with the most emergency training. She needs to look at him."

Copeland nodded. "You can untie her. I'll just stand here and make sure you don't do anything foolish."

Daniel swiftly turned and loosened the ropes holding Sam. She pulled herself up. After rubbing her wrists and ankles for a second she then turned towards Jack. Kneeling,she reached over and felt his pulse.

"Can you tell how he is?" asked Daniel.

"He's alive Daniel, that's all I know. He's freezing cold. We need to get these things off of him and warm him up. Get the scissors from the First Aid Kit. We'll need to cut his clothes off so as not to hurt him further." Teal'c stood up and looked at Copeland.

"I need to retrieve the First Aid bag. It is in the other room."

"Stay there. I'll get it." He turned and quickly walked over the bag and returned to the bedroom. Standing in the doorway he tossed it over to Teal'c.

"Here Captain Carter – the scissors."

Taking them with a quick 'thank you', she began on O'Neill's shirt. His clothes were soaked and his skin icy and clammy. From his breathing she knew that he already had a chest infection - most likely pneumonia - and it was vital to warm him up.

Once the shirt was cut she carefully pulled it out from underneath him. Without a thought this time, she began on his pants.

"You want me to do that Sam?" Daniel asked, figuring that she might be uncomfortable stripping the Colonel. With a quick shake of her head she continued. Embarrassment was the last thing on her mind right then.

"Get some antiseptic and bandages. I'm going to check on his wounds. Teal'c, once I have his clothes off pull up the blankets to his waist. I'll check his arms and chest first."

For the next 20 minutes she checked his wounds, rebandaging the ones that needed it. The wound on his upper thigh was infected, but she didn't think too badly. There was little that she could do that was too effective, however, as his serious wounds were internal. She knew that getting him warm and keeping him from choking were about the only things they could really do for him now.

"Help me cover him up. We need to sit him up a bit. It sounds like his breathing is getting worse." Teal'c and Daniel both reached down and helped lift Jack's upper body slightly while Sam put some pillows behind him.

"I'm still worried – he's not warming up." Without looking at the men watching she began to pull her clothes off.

"Sam?" Daniel asked.

"I have to warm him up Daniel and we don't have any hot water bottles. You know as well as I do that in an emergency situation 'skin to skin' is the best thing so that's what I'm doing – unless you'd rather do it?" She looked over at her colleague and friend but continued to strip.

"Uh no, that's okay Sam. Anything else we can do?" By this time Sam was wearing nothing but her underwear. She quickly lifted the blankets and got under the covers. Sliding as close to Jack as she could she attempted to hold him without putting pressure on his wounds.

Okay, she thought, now is the time for you to wake up and make some witty comment, Colonel. She looked down at the still, pale face and knew that this time there would be no comments coming from this man. He was barely holding on and was far beyond any ability to talk or even regain consciousness.

Looking up at the two remaining members of her team she spoke, "Go warm up some broth or tea. I'll see if I can get some hot liquids into him. It'll warm him up and if he's bleeding internally he needs to stay hydrated.

Daniel turned to walk to the kitchen but was stopped by Copeland and his gun.

"Sorry, you can't go anywhere. I really can't keep an eye on all of you if you're in separate rooms. You'll have to stay here."

"You heard her Copeland. Jack needs something warm. I'm just going to get something – I won't run."

"Sorry, can't take the chance. You know as well as I do that O'Neill's not going to survive anyway. Just let him rest."

Looking at the man Daniel knew there was little hope of convincing him so, turning around, he looked at Sam and shrugged. Looking back at Copeland he asked.

'What about some water? Can't I just get a glass or something? You can stand in the doorway and watch us all at the same time. It'll only take me a second."

The erstwhile teacher thought for a moment and then nodded. "You go", he pointed to Daniel.

Once he'd returned with a pitcher of water and a couple of glasses he filled one and knelt beside Jack, on the other side from Sam.

"What should I do?" he asked the Captain.

"Just try and give him small sips. See if he can take any. Just be careful not to make him choke."

Daniel put his arm behind Jack's shoulders and held the glass to his lips. Unfortunately, the water simply dribbled out. The Colonel was too deeply unconscious to take even a small drop. After a few tries he looked over at Sam and shook his head.

"It's not working Sam. I don't think he can take any. Maybe if he wakes up?" But they all knew that was not likely to happen.

Sam lay back down and both Daniel and Teal'c sat – Daniel beside Jack on the bed, Teal'c on the floor in the corner. He took the opportunity to Kel'noreem while he had the chance. Copeland continued to lean against the door, watching the three friends hold vigil over the Colonel.

The phone rang and George practically leapt from his chair. He'd been hoping for a call but had been so deep in thought that it startled him when the phone finally rang.

"Hello", he answered. Thank God – it was Walter.

"Did you find Ferretti? …. Excellent. Thanks Walter. I'll call as soon as I find anything out." Hanging up the phone he let out a huff of breath. Here's hoping Lou knew something.

The man had been staying at his in-laws who lived in a small town north of Denver. He was on his way back and had been asked, by Walter, to stop off at the General's on his way. He should make it within the hour.

George went and made a pot of coffee to offer Lou when he arrived – but also to keep himself busy. He was worried, and sitting at home, by himself, was hard. Normally he'd be at the base where he felt like he was more in control.

Finally, about an hour after Walter's call, the door bell rang. He stood up quickly and answered it, relieved to see Lou Ferretti standing on his doorstep.

"Lou, come on in. Let me take your coat. Thanks for coming so quickly."

"No problem General. They said there might be a problem with Jack and his team. I thought they had the holidays off?"

"They did – they do. We're not sure if something's wrong or not." As he spoke the General was leading the Major back towards the kitchen. "Have a seat Lou. Can I get you a coffee?"

"Thanks, that'd be great Sir. So, what's wrong with Jack and SG1? You say they're off? What trouble could they be in?"

So, the General told him what had happened. He then asked the question he'd been waiting to ask.

"A friend of Jack's from Iraq lent him his cabin for the weekend. I understand you knew Jack over there as well. I was hoping you might know who this friend is and how we can contact him."

"Hmmm", Lou frowned and looked thoughtful. "Yeah, I remember Jack saying something about borrowing a cabin. I'm trying to think who it would be from. There are a few of us around from Iraq but most of the people we knew aren't with the Air Force anymore. I don't think there were too many people Jack stayed in touch with. After what happened over there and then his kid, I think he lost touch with a lot of people. Let me think though."

Ferretti sat for a moment, taking slow sips from his coffee. The General knew it wouldn't help to pressure the man but he wanted to scream 'hurry up', to Ferretti. Someone had walked over his grave and he just knew that time was of the essence.

"Wait a second", Lou sat up straighter, "I think I know who it must be. One of the guys in the prison with Jack – he moved back to around here. He stayed in touch with Jack – I think he credited him with saving his life. If I remember correctly it was that tough Irishman, Jim O'Reilly. He refused to let O'Neill push him away. Yeah – it's got to be Jim. I remember him talking to Jack about going fishing at his cabin. They used to go on for hours about kinds of fish and bait and all that stuff."

George had stood up as soon as Ferretti mentioned the name and had walked to the phone. He looked back at Lou. "Is he still with the Air Force do you know?"

"No, I think he retired, but I'm pretty sure he lives around here."

"Thanks Lou", He quickly dialed Walter.

"Walter, it's me. Yes – check out a man named Jim O'Reilly. He served with the AF in Iraq and was in prison with O'Neill. Yeah, I'll be waiting."

"I hope to Got you're right Ferretti. I think Jack's life may depend on it."

The two men waited in silence, both lost in thought about Jack O'Neill and his team. If anyone were to get in trouble over a holiday weekend, they both thought, it was no surprise it would be SG1. That team attracted more trouble than the rest of the teams put together. The amazing thing was that they always seemed to pull themselves out of it. Hope to God their luck held.

Just then, the phone rang.

"How is he doing Captain Carter?" Teal'c stood up, slightly refreshed from his meditation, but too worried to take full advantage of it.

"He's not good Teal'c. I don't know how much longer he can last without help." Sam looked in despair at the man she was holding. Each breath seemed to take every last bit of his energy. She could feel herself breathing along with him, as if by doing so she could help him. The wheezing sound was growing worse and, a few times, his breath had hitched and stopped completely. Each time she panicked, worried that it wouldn't resume. Something, however, was keeping him going. Just as it seemed as if his body was giving up, a force or a will to live would surface and the breaths would continue. She knew that one time, that will would not be strong enough and that then they would stop - forever.

She looked down at this man who she considered a friend and wished for him to open those brown eyes and grin up at her with that childish – and yet somehow knowing – look. Jack O'Neill was a strange combination of childlike innocence and jaded cynicism. It's as if he'd seen the worst life had to offer and yet refused to let it completely crush that joy of living which was so much a part of who he was. Or maybe he consciously rejected tragedy and turned instead to the innocence – refusing to let all the bad in his life destroy him.

She knew, from what Daniel had told her and the few things she'd seen, that it almost had. There had been a point in his life, she knew, when he'd been ready to leave it all behind, to give up. Thank heavens he hadn't. Because of him the world was still safe – and because of him a rag tag team had come together and become family.

Gently stroking his forehead she tried to will him the strength to continue. She watched closely – hoping for some small sign that he would be okay – but there was nothing. He didn't move, other than the sporadic lifting of his chest from his labored breathing.

She looked up and met Teal'c gaze. He too knew that things were bad. Although his expression didn't change, she could tell how agonized he was – not just over the condition the Colonel was in – but also in his inability to do anything.

She put her head down and touched her lips to the Colonel's temple. "You stay with us Sir", she whispered softly into his hair. "We need you so don't you dare leave us." Looking up she saw that both her friends gave a slight nod. They too knew how much they needed this man to live.

Copeland stood up straight. He no longer could take watching these people on what he thought of as their death vigil. He could no longer bear to see a man die – a man who had done nothing to deserve this all because he, Bob Copeland, had been weak and vindictive.

He should have fought the trustees and the school. He could have raised some hell and even if they had still gotten rid of him he would have gone out with his head held high. Now, he was nothing but a criminal, branded for life, with nothing to show for his years teaching all those young men.

Well, he could do something now, he thought. He could get the hell out of here. Once away from the cabin he could make an anonymous phone call and send help, even though he was sure it was too late for the Colonel anyway. Hopefully he'd have enough time to get away but by now it didn't really matter to him one way or another. What they'd said to him was true. He was going to spend the rest of his life on the run.

Turning, he walked out of the bedroom and over to the other room where Aaron and Doug were held. He opened the door and walked in.

"So, come to gloat?" sneered Aaron. "Or just coming to see if we've escaped yet?"

"No", he answered shortly.

"Then what? What do you want?"

"I'm thinking about letting you go."

"Well finally, it's about time. Know you can't get outta here without me right? Is O'Neill dead yet? Is that what's changed your mind?"

"No, no he's not dead. His team is with him – but he's in a bad way. I just want to get out of here before he does die. And yeah, you can help me. Our deal still stands. I'll give you $250,000 to help me get to Mexico and then I want you out of my life."

Hall laughed. "You think that's enough? I know how much you stole and I also know that I've sat here tied up for hours because of you. I think I deserve more compensation."

Bob looked over at him. "All right. I'll double it because at this point I really don't care that much about the money. But I warn you Aaron – don't try anything because right now I'm tired, tired of everything and I don't care if I get through this or not. I also know that if I don't – neither will you. I'd be happy to take you down with me."

Walking over to the man who he'd grown to detest he reached down and untied him. Hall stood up and looked at Copeland, rubbing his wrists.

"So, what we gonna do about the Air Force contingent. You want me to get rid of em?"

"You're not to do anything. Stay away from them. They are only concerned about the Colonel right now. No, I want you to get the car going and figure out to get out of here as soon as possible. We've got to make it to Mexico."

"What about the money."

"Don't worry about that. It's safe and you'll get your cut before we're done."

"And what about Doug? Are we gonna let him loose?" Copeland thought for a moment.

"We'll take him with us when we're ready to go but I don't want him released yet. I don't trust him", he laughed, "I don't trust you either but you're not as smart as he is. Just figure out the car." Turning, he walked back to the living room. On his way he glanced into the bedroom with the 'Air Force contingent', as Aaron called it. They were still focused on O'Neill.

"We should do something Daniel Jackson", Teal'c spoke quietly. "We need to escape."

"Yeah, I know Teal'c. It looks like he's let Hall go", they had seen the man walk past their door and out of the cabin. "It's going to be harder to get two of them."

"Yes, but I believe now is the time to try, before the other man returns. What is your earth saying? – 'nothing endeavored, nothing expanded'.

"Huh?" Daniel looked at him blankly.

"I think he means 'nothing ventured, nothing gained', Daniel", Sam spoke up for the first time. She had been silent, simply watching Jack and occasionally stroking his face.

"Yes indeed Captain,that is the expression to which I referred."

"All right – so, what we gonna venture?" asked Daniel

"This is the house General", Ferretti looked down at the address he'd written on a piece of paper. Walter had come through quickly with the information. "Let's hope he's home and not off visiting someone for the holiday.

Nodding in agreement the General practically leapt out of the car as soon as the Major stopped the car. Opening the car door he quickly walked up the front walk to the door of the pretty little bungalow, Ferretti close behind.

As the two men waited impatiently at the door, they both said a short prayer that O'Reilly would be home. When they heard the lock being pulled back they breathed duplicate sighs of relief.

"Can I help you gentleman", a tall 40 something man stood in the doorway.

"My name is General George Hammond and this is Major Lou Ferretti. We're both with the Air Force and we work at Cheyenne Mountain. I understand that Colonel Jack O'Neill is a friend of yours?"

The man looked at him with a totally blank expression although he'd started when he'd heard Lou's name. He'd looked over at him and had seemed about to say something but stopped when he heard the question about O'Neill.. It was clear he was not about to give anything away until he knew what this was about.

"I knew him in Iraq. What's this about?", he asked suspiciously.

It was Lou who answered this time. "Jim, I don't know if you remember me? I was in Iraq and am a friend of Jack's. I met you when you were both in hospital after being freed." O'Reilly looked over at him, the familiarity explained.

"So, I met lots of guys in hospital – and in prison – I still don't know what this is about."

"Son", the General spoke, "Jack is an officer under my command – and a good friend. I received a call a little while ago and it sounded like the person on the other end was in trouble. Someone spoke and I gathered that the person in trouble might be Jack. The speaker referred to the 'Colonel' and the cabin. O'Neill is the only officer I have who I know was going to a cabin for the weekend. The problem is we don't know where that cabin is. We were hoping you might help."

O'Reilly continued to look at them with a nondescript expression on his face. He wasn't sure about these men although he did recall this Ferretti guy from the hospital. He'd probably spent more time talking to him than O'Neill – who was in much worse shape, both physically and psychologically. To this day Jim found it hard to believe that O'Neill had snapped back as well as he had considering all that had been done to him in the Iraqi prison.

"You say you're his friends but how can I know for sure?" He looked at one man and then the other.

"I guess you'll just have to take my word for it Mr. O'Reilly", answered Hammond. "All I can tell you is that Jack is one of the best officers I've ever had – but more than that, I'm pleased to call him friend, as is Lou. He's probably one of the most irritating men on the planet – but I can't think of anyone I'd rather have watching my back."

These seemed to be exactly the right words to say to O'Reilly as both Hammond and Ferretti could see the man relax. He looked up and gave a brief smile.

"Yeah, that's O'Neill all right." he laughed softly. "He certainly watched all our backs in Iraq – to his detriment. So, come in and tell me what's going on. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

When both men had refused, knowing time was of the essence, Hammond immediately gave a short update on the situation. Jim nodded and then looked concerned.

"Aaron Hall", he said, as soon as George stopped speaking.

"Who?", asked the General.

"Aaron Hall. He was one of the prisoners with us but he was trouble. He gave information to the Iraqis – oh, nothing classified – just information on the people there, how to get to us, etc. The person he really went after – as did the Iraqis – was Jack. For some reason Hall hated Jack and decided to take on a vendetta against him. He did everything he could to ensure the guards harassed and harmed Jack. Of course, Jack didn't help matters – constantly harassing the guards himself. He did everything he could to focus attention on himself, and away from the rest of us. But he paid for it dearly."

"Yeah – you're right – that's definitely the Jack we know and love. By why did you refer to this Hall?"

"Well, Jack asked if he could use the cabin when he spoke to me a couple of weeks ago. I've offered it to him a dozen times but he's never taken me up on it before. Oh, he came with me a couple of times to do some fishing – but never on his own. This time he told me he wanted to take some special friends with him. I'd originally planned on taking the family but changed my mind when Jack asked to use it." He looked up at the General. "I own Jack my life many times over. I've never been able to repay him so this is one small thing I can do." He said it almost belligerently, as if he felt guilty about not being able to repay Jack.

"I'm sure he appreciated it Jim", smiled the General. "As far as paying him back – you know Jack O'Neill is the last man to want or need that. You know he'll simply say he was 'doing his duty'. A lot of us have run into that Jack so don't worry, and don't feel badly. I'm sure he was thrilled with the cottage."

"Yes, he was. Left here happier than I'd ever seen him. The funny thing was, that just a few days ago I had another visitor from my Iraq days and that was Hall. He claimed he was just dropping by for a visit but I knew that was a lie."

"Why did you think he was lying?" asked Ferretti

"Because there's no way in hell Aaron Hall would drop by and say hi. He knew I hated his guts for what he did to Jack. In fact, the whole damn prison hated the man. Jack was our hero. I think that some of them would even have killed Hall if they could have. So, when he came by I knew something was suspicious. He even got around to asking me about the cottage. I can't believe I fell for that. I'm sure he's behind this. He hated Jack – blamed him for the fact that he was sent to Leavenworth for 'aiding and abetting' the enemy."

"So, can you tell us where the cabin is?" the General finally asked. All this was good – important even – but he knew they had to get going.

"I'll do better than that General – I'll show you."


	12. Too Late?

**_Another chapter. Please don't hate me!_**

"Okay Jim, we'd love to have you. Sergeant Harriman has arranged for a chopper to be on standby at Peterson. Let's go."

"Sir?", asked Ferretti, "should we see if one of the teams can meet us there? Knowing SG1 we might need some more fire power."

"Already arranged Major. We've got the rest of your team plus a couple of extra volunteers waiting for us. I agree – with SG1 you can never be too careful."

"Didn't you have trouble finding people on the long weekend General", asked O'Reilly as they headed to Hammond's car.

Both the General and Ferretti laughed. "No. As soon as the word was out that Jack and his team might be in trouble Walter had to turn people away. O'Neill is well liked as are his team."

Jim smiled and nodded as he got into the back seat. "Yeah – I'm not surprised. Jack O'Neill seems to inspire loyalty – either that or uncontrollable rage!"

Hammond looked in the rear view mirror at the former Air Force officer and friend of Jack's. "I can tell you know Jack well – that's just about it. So tell me Jim, can we land close to the cabin?" They got down to business as they headed to the base.

"No, the closest you can get is to the base of the mountain. There's a large enough space for a chopper to land. It's right close to a small coffee shop run by an old man and his wife. All the locals know Frank's place."

"That may be a problem then, getting up to the cabin in this weather. I understand they really got dumped on closer to the mountains."

"It's not uncommon in that area. I suggest you call the local park service. They have rescue vehicles that can get up the roads. Tourists – and sometimes even the locals – get trapped when there's a snow storm. I'm sure they'll help when they know someone is in trouble."

"Oh, they'll help all right", the General reached for his cell. Flipping it open he speed dialed Walter again (the man was earning his pay tonight, thought George).

"Sergeant, it's me again. Yes, we're on our way to Peterson. Can you contact the Park Service out of Mount Evans and tell them we need some rescue vehicles. They should meet us at" he looked in the mirror at O'Reilly.

"Frank Conway's place. They'll know it."

"Yeah, have them meet the chopper at Frank Conway's place. We should be there within the hour. Thanks Walter." He signed off.

"Okay good. We should be there shortly."

"Uh – I didn't bring my gear General" Ferretti looked at the General.

"Not to worry, they're bringing things for both of us. Jim, you can direct us but you'll have to stay out of things if there's a fight. There's no way I can authorize a weapon for you since you're a civilian now."

"Don't worry Sir. I'll handle things fine." George wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, and had a brief moment of worry. When he recalled that this man was O'Neill's friend he decided to let it go. He'd do what he had to.

Twenty minutes later they arrived at Peterson. Hammond showed his ID at the gate and they were waved through. Efficient Walter had warned the base they were coming.

They pulled into a parking spot and hurried through a couple more check points before making it to the field and the waiting chopper. As they arrived they could see a lot of activity going on, with Airmen and women hopping in and out of the aircraft.

It wasn't until they got closer that George recognized the tiny, dark haired woman standing outside the chopper.

"Doctor. What are you doing here?" Hammond asked.

"Hello General. I hope you don't mind. When I heard that SG1 might be in trouble I thought it would be a good idea to come alone. You know them and their record Sir. I just had a feeling I should be here."

"Glad to have you Doc. Just stay inside until we know the lay of the land. I don't want you or your people getting hurt."

"Will do Sir. Do we have any other details as to what's happened?"

"Not really although Jim here thinks he might know who's behind it. I'll let him tell you. I'm going to check and see if we're about ready to go." He turned quickly to O'Reilly and introduced him to the Doctor and then walked up to where he could see the pilot at the controls.

"We'll be ready to go in five minutes General, as soon as everyone is loaded."

"Excellent Captain." Hammond moved back to where the remaining soldiers were getting ready to board. He assisted Janet in hopping on and then found a seat for himself. Looking around at everyone he could tell they were all anxious to get going. They had a team to rescue.

Teal'c turned to Sam. "You must guard Colonel O'Neill. I am afraid that Aaron Hall will try to finish what he started and kill him. Daniel Jackson and I will attempt to overpower the two men."

"Sounds like a plan Teal'c" Daniel looked at his friend. "But how are we going to take Copeland unawares? He's got the gun and he seems pretty smart, even if he's new to this."

"We will create a diversion. We have done it many times in the past."

"Yes, that's true Teal'c, but we've usually had C-4 or zats or something similar. All we have now are ..." he looked around. "Actually, we don't really have anything except for some bandages and pillows. I suppose we could attack him with those. He might be so surprised he'll give up."

Teal'c just looked at him with a disgusted expression on his face – or as disgusted as a Jaffa ever _**could**_ look.

"I believe Captain Carter can assist us." Sam looked up at him in surprise. What could she do lying here in her underwear (okay, that was a thought to be put aside quickly) next to a very sick Colonel.

"What do you want me to do Teal'c?" she asked softly.

"Can you cry Captain Carter?"

"What? Well, of course I can Teal'c – but not on command. What would that do anyway?"

"I mean for you to cry loudly, as if in mourning. You can pretend that the Colonel has died and you are distraught. The women on Chulak will wail loudly when a warrior has died. Can you not do this?"

"Uh – yeah, I guess. I mean, there are some cultures that do it here too but generally not ours." She looked a little uncomfortable at the thought of doing this as it was against her nature, but Sam knew drastic measures had to be taken.

"All right Teal'c. I'll do it – just tell me when."

"Fine. Daniel Jackson, can you stay close beside the Captain, pretending that you too are grieving. When Bob Copeland appears you can get angry. I will attempt to disarm him."

"Okay, but I think he's too smart for this." Daniel walked to the bed and stood looking down at Jack. This scenario actually gave him the creeps because the Colonel looked like he could be ….Daniel refused to even think the word.

Teal'c positioned himself slightly off to the side of the door. He didn't hide, as that would look obvious, but stayed out of Copeland's direct line of sight. It would be impossible for him to hold the gun on all of them.

"Now Captain, you may begin."

Sitting up slightly Sam went to hold the sheets up to cover her chest. She realized however, that by letting them fall she would add a further distraction. The thought was distasteful and something she would normally never do – but desperate times and all. So, she sat up in nothing but her bra. Hope your eyes bug out Copeland, she thought.

Taking a deep breath she began to cry. At first softly, she allowed the sound to build. She was surprised at how natural it sounded, even to her own ears. She realized suddenly that the tears were real. The stress and anxiety and real possibility that they could lose the Colonel had been building and now were being released.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God", she cried. "no Colonel, please don't die. You can't leave us." she sobbed more loudly. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Bob approach the room.

"What is it? What's happened", he asked, stepping just slightly into the room. Daniel whipped around and faced him.

'You murderer! You let him die. He was a good man – better than you'll ever be. You bastard you! How could you do this?" Daniel was practically shouting at the man. If it hadn't have been for the seriousness of the situation he would have enjoyed the theatrics of it.

Copeland was stunned. He'd known, in his mind, that it was likely that O'Neill wouldn't make it but somehow the reality was impossible to comprehend.

"Wha …?" He walked into the room a bit farther, his arm with the gun dropping slightly.

"You killed him", Sam sobbed. "He's dead because of you."

The teacher stepped forward once more. He was almost at the point where Teal'c could tackle him. He looked at O'Neill, lying still and pale in the bed. He was obviously dead. A sick feeling pervaded his soul although if he'd thought about it for a moment he would have gotten suspicious at the 'over the top' behavior of the three friends. He started to speak.

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean for this …" His eyes grew round and a hard look appeared on his face. He quickly brought the gun up and pointed it at Sam and Daniel.

"You thought you could trick me, did you? Well I'm not that stupid." The two team mates looked in confusion but then saw that Copeland was looking at Jack. Turning, they saw the Colonel's eyes open. He was clearly out of it – and his eyes were quickly drifting shut - but it had been enough to destroy their plan.

Except they forgot one thing -Teal'c. While Copeland looked at them in anger, Teal'c launched himself at the man, grabbing for his gun hand and yanking it up. Copeland got a shot off but it hit the ceiling. He was quickly immobilized by the larger and stronger man.

"Take his gun Daniel", Teal'c spoke quietly. Daniel ran over and grabbed the gun, stepping back away from the desperate man.

The sound of the shot reverberated through the still air of the late afternoon. Aaron had been working to get the car started when he heard it.

"Shit! What did that idiot do now?" Grabbing one of the guns from under the front seat along with a box of ammunition, he quickly got out of the car and ran towards the cabin, making sure that no one was coming out. He didn't know what had happened – hopefully Bob had simply shot someone (he could only hope it was O'Neill). There was the possibility, however, that one of them had overpowered him and that they were now in control.

He really wished he had Beiman with him. The man was great under pressure.

Standing to the side of the cabin, out of site from any of the windows or the door he called.

"Hey Copeland, what's happening?" He waited for a minute but there was no sound.

"Copeland, are you there?" Again, no answer. Well, that must mean that they've taken – and maybe killed – his accomplice. The best thing might be for him to just head to the car and get out of here. There were two problems with that. One, he'd miss out on the money and he really wanted and really needed it. Two, the people in there could recognize him and he'd be on the run – with no resources. It wouldn't be long before he was caught and this time he'd go away forever.

So, without more thought, but hoping Copeland was alive, he called again.

"We're at an impasse here. I have weapons and I'll shoot anyone trying to leave. I know you want to get O'Neill to the hospital so I suggest we do business." He waited for a minute, until a voice answered him.

"What kind of business?" It was Jackson.

"Give me Copeland and we'll go. As soon as we're outta here you are free to leave. You can get help for the Colonel."

"What good will that do us? We won't have a vehicle."

"No, but if you walk a mile or two you'll probably get reception on your cell – you can call and get help." Of course Aaron had no intention of letting any of them go. Once he had Bob he'd drive a short ways away and wait for whoever ventured out and would kill him. He could then make his way back and do the rest of them, including Beiman. Once he was in the clear he and Bob could head out. He expected he'd have some trouble from the man but he could control him. He was sick of listening to his whining. This time he'd be in charge. And he wasn't going to do this for a simple $500,000. No – he wanted it all.

"I don't think so Hall. You see, we really don't trust you. I think we'll just stay here in the toasty warm cabin while you're stuck out there in the cold. Let's see who holds out the longest."

Damn, and double damn! What was he going to do now? Maybe the best thing would be to try and sneak into the house and take them down. They only had the one gun and wouldn't be expecting him to do that. The problem was the big guy – he was crafty. The younger guy was smart too. In fact, they were all pretty bright although they were distracted by O'Neill's condition.

"What do you think we should do Teal'c? We have to get Jack outta here and Hall could keep us trapped for a long time."

"I know. I believe the best thing to do is to try and capture him."

"How are we going to do that? He's obviously watching the door."

"I will leave by one of the back windows. You must stay and talk to him so I can tell where he is."

"Ah Teal'c – there's only one problem with that. I don't think you'll fit." Teal'c looked at him and sighed. Daniel Jackson was correct – the windows would be impossible for him to exit.

"I can do it Daniel." Sam spoke from the bed. She was still sitting up, having clearly forgotten that she was dressed in nothing but her underwear. Daniel had trouble looking at her. Even though he wasn't interested in Sam in that way, he couldn't help but notice that she was very attractive. Hell, what red blooded man wouldn't. He glanced over at Teal'c and caught a strange expression in his eye. Oh, so Jaffa weren't immune either!

Daniel shook himself and responded.

"Are you sure Sam?"

"Yes", she put her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Grabbing for her clothes she dressed quickly.

"Do what Teal'c suggested. Keep talking." She turned to Daniel, "You'll have to give me the gun."

Sam put her shoes on but left off the jacket. She didn't think she could fit through the small window with it on. Taking the gun she put it securely in the waist of her pants

"Wish me luck." With that she opened the window and pulled herself up and through.

Teal'c was watching Copeland closely but the man appeared to have given up. He sat with his head bowed and his hands lying listlessly at his side.

Daniel walked out of the bedroom to the side of the front door and began to speak.

"Hey Hall – you still there?"

"Yeah – I'm still here. Changed your mind? Why don't you let Bob come with me, then we'll be gone."

"Nope, sorry. Copeland wants to stay with us. I don't think he trusts you either."

"Well then, I guess we'll have a little wait."

"Yup – getting cold Hall? I'm going to fix myself a nice hot cup of coffee. I bet you'd enjoy one. Why don't you come in and I'll fix you one."

"Don't think so Jackson. I'm fine right here. By the way, how's O'Neill? Still alive? If he is I expect it won't be for long. You should have seen him roll down the hill – it was pretty spectacular. Of course, it wasn't nearly as interesting as seeing him get tortured by the Iraqis. Did you know they let me watch? Yeah, it was my reward for helping them. I used to love listening to him screaming."

Daniel was feeling sick but knew he had to keep the man talking for Sam's sake. She should be in position soon.

"I don't believe you Hall. Jack O'Neill is one of the bravest men I know."

"Oh, even brave men will break, Jackson. I remember watching him twitch and jerk on the end of the rope. They did some real interesting things with electricity. Very inventive those Iraqis. Yeah – at first he was tough, didn't say a thing. After the first couple of days though he was crying like a baby. Even wet himself. It was a beautiful site to see the great Jack O'Neill reduced to a whimpering coward. My only regret is that I won't be there to see him die."

Sam was almost in position. She'd had to consciously block out what the man was saying and concentrate only on his voice. If she'd actually listened to what he was saying she knew she'd be so angry she'd lose her calm professionalism – something she needed right now.

Just a couple of more steps and she'd be there. Suddenly, her foot hit a branch buried by the snow and a loud 'crack' reverberated through the still air. Damn! She dove for cover just as Hall let off a round of shots.

"Trying to sneak up on me?" he shouted. Not quite sure where his opponent was Hall stayed hidden behind some trees. He reached out and quickly let off another couple of rounds.

Sam returned fire, hoping to hit him. The outcome would probably depend on who had the most ammunition. Sam was worried as her gun only had a small number of bullets left.

He was lucky, he'd grabbed some extra ammunition from the car so could go for a while. He figured that the Captain wasn't as well equipped. He reached around the trees and shot a few more, hoping to keep her from moving. He was pleased – he could see a way out now. All he had to do was capture the woman and he could trade her for Copeland.

Unfortunately for the arrogant – and not very bright - Aaron Hall – his shooting had masked the sound of approaching vehicles. Sam, on the other hand, had heard them. Someone was coming. She just hoped to God it was a friend.

As the sound of the vehicle (or vehicles, she couldn't tell) stopped, she let out a couple of quick shots. She immediately heard the sound of car doors slamming and shouting. She heard fast footsteps approaching – moving quickly but obviously carefully.

"This is General Hammond of the SGC. You are surrounded. I suggest you come out with your hands up."

God – she'd never heard anything more beautiful in her life. The Cavalry to the rescue!

"Sir, it's me, Carter. The man over in the trees at 10:00 o'clock from the cabin is a kidnapper and tried to kill Colonel O'Neill. His name is Aaron Hall and he has a gun. He is extremely dangerous."

"Understood Captain. Hall – lay down your weapon. There is no way you can get out."

He should have left when he'd had the chance, thought Hall. This was the story of his life – just when things seemed to be going well everything would suddenly go FUBAR - and it always seemed to happen around O'Neill. Well, he was already going to go away for killing the Colonel (there was no way the man could survive) so he might as well get one more for good luck.

"Okay, I'm coming out", he called. Putting his gun in the waist of his pants in back he stood up, hands held high. He walked to the Captain who also stood, her gun trained on him.

"Keep your hands up Hall and walk towards me." He moved slowly towards the Captain. Just as he got to about eight feet from her he glanced to her left and looked surprised. Oldest trick in the book, he thought. When her eyes followed the movement he quickly reached in behind and grabbed his gun, pulling it out and aiming it at the Captain.

His last living thought was – 'never underestimate a damn woman!'

"Are you okay Sam?" Major Ferretti ran up as she stood looking down at Hall's body, the gun in her hand.

She looked up. "I'm fine. We have to help the Colonel. He's hurt badly." Without giving the dead man another thought (that was for later, she knew) she turned and ran towards the cabin. As she got close she saw Teal'c waiting on the doorstep. Daniel must be with the Colonel, she thought.

"Sam, Sam, are you okay?" She turned and almost sobbed in relief when she saw the figure of her friend, Janet Frasier, rushing up to the cabin.

"Thank God you're here Janet. I'm fine but the Colonel's in bad shape. He's in here." She quickly led the doctor up the steps into the small building.

Janet called to her medics to follow with the equipment. As she walked behind Sam she asked,

"Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"He was pushed down a steep cliff. He's got multiple contusions, a concussion I think, cracked ribs. One lung is punctured and it sounds like he has pneumonia. He also has other internal injuries and I think a broken hip or pelvis."

As the list of injuries grew Janet hurried even faster. Rushing into the room she took one look at Jack and called for a nurse.

"Get the oxygen on him stat!" She knelt on the bed and touched his face. "Get the IV going – we've got to get him moved out asap." She and her nurses worked furiously on the Colonel. Sam, Teal'c and Daniel all stood to the side watching at the flurry of movement.

Ferretti and the General had taken charge of the remaining two criminals. When that was done and they were carted off to the waiting vehicles, the two officers joined the silent watchers.

The Colonel had held on for hours, critically wounded and in pain. He had tried everything in his power to save his team, and himself. Somehow he must have known that help had arrived for shortly after Janet started working on him his body gave out. He no longer was able to keep going under his own power. With one final, shallow and painful exhale his breathing stopped. His heart gave one final, weak beat and it too stopped. It was enough. Jack O'Neill died.


	13. Needed

**_Okay - I kind of got the feeling from a couple of you that you didn't want me to kill off Jack. Actually - I think I would have had raging hoards of disgruntled readers after me if I had. So...he's still with us (for now!). Thank you for all the wonderful reviews and comments! I'm sorry if I don't always get back to you all quickly - I figured you'd rather the story first - but don't think I don't really, really appreciate and love your comments! My apologies to anyone out there who knows anything about medicine and emergency procedures - all I know I learned from TV!_**

"Doctor, we've lost his pulse." Lieutenant Adams was one of her best Triage nurses. Janet looked up from where she had been listening to the Colonel's chest..

"He's stopped breathing! Get the Epinephrine", she spoke urgently. "One milligram - push. Michaels, get a chest tube now. We have to drain this fluid. I'm going to need to intubate him as well**!**" She looked around, all her med team were busy. She looked over towards Sam.

"Sam, come here. I need you to help me. I have to get this tube in and I need you to hold his head steady. Get on his other side, on the bed, and do exactly what I say."

Sam quickly walked over and positioned herself on the bed. It was difficult with everyone scurrying around, working furiously on the Colonel.

As Janet positioned the tube, she spoke to the battered man in front of her.

"You will **not** do this to me Colonel! You will not die on my watch." She worked swiftly to get the tracheal tube in as Michaels fitted the chest tube in his side. Adams had the IV started and was administering a rapid dose of the life saving epinephrine.

"Okay, it's in. Let's get the air flowing folks!" Janet shouted. Adams quickly started the machine pumping oxygen into the Colonels lungs.

"Anything?" Janet asked.

"No Ma'am, still no pulse."

"Damn it Colonel! Come on, come on." She looked up again. "Give him a second dose. How long has it been since we lost him?"

"Two minutes, twenty-two seconds."

"Come on Jack. You can do this. If you die I'm going to follow you into eternity with my pen light and you will definitely be sorry!" She watched as Adams administered a second dose of epinephrine.

Don't do this Sir, thought Sam. We need you. You're too good a man to die now – I don't know what I'd do without you."

As the frantic attempt to save Jack's life was going on, the rest of his team, Hammond and Ferretti were all standing in the corner of the room – out of the way of the desperate activity. Each of them looked on with deep anxiety, echoing Janet's words to themselves – come on Jack, come on.

Daniel stood quietly, feeling stunned and lost. Jack couldn't die. Who would tease him? Who would keep him grounded? Who would look out for him? Daniel had lost too many people in his life who were important to him – he couldn't lose Jack.

You must come back, my brother. Our work is not finished. You will be missed by many here on this planet – and by those searching for freedom on other worlds. Stay with us. We need you O'Neill.

"All right Colonel. That's it. Enough of this – it's time for you to come back." Janet was using her 'you'd better listen to me or I'm going to whup your ass' tone of voice. If that didn't work, nothing would, thought the General. Come on Jack – listen to her.

"Nurse?" Janet turned to Adams who was checking the Colonel once more. The nurse stood for a couple of more seconds, not answering. Everyone in the room held his or her breath – it seemed to go on forever.

"I've got a pulse!" she cried. The sighs of relief were palpable although Janet didn't miss a beat.

"Okay – finish getting him hooked up. Let's get him ready to transport. We need to get him back asap." It was only then, as Janet finished speaking, that she realized they'd had an audience the whole time. Knowing how traumatic the last few minutes would be on Jack's friends, she gave a frustrated sigh. They shouldn't have been here.

"Okay everyone, I need you to clear out. We're going to be bringing the Colonel out right away and we need a clear path. You too Sam. Thanks for your help but we can take it from here"

"'Is he going to be okay Janet?" asked Daniel.

She looked at the expectant faces in front of her. "I don't know. He's in bad shape. You saw what just happened – we almost lost him. It could happen again which is why we need to get him to a hospital as soon as possible. Just keep praying."

None of the team looked happy, realizing how serious things still were. Slowly, reluctantly they filed out of the room, each of them glancing back at the man on the bed. The nurses had pulled the covers off him and he lay naked, covered with tubes and wires.

He looked so small, Sam thought. Usually he was such a large presence. He was a tall man but it was more than that. When Jack O'Neill was present everyone noticed - his personality filled the room.. Now, however, he seemed diminished. He looked like he could fade away into the bed at any moment. Somehow, the site of him like that terrified her. It was as if the world was suddenly a less safe or welcoming place.

As they filed out of the room none of the members of SG1 – or the General or Ferretti - spoke. There was really nothing for them to say. They could only hope.

A couple of minutes later a gurney was wheeled into the bedroom. It exited shortly, carrying the Colonel, surrounded by the medical team who were each carrying a piece of equipment. Janet walked alongside, keeping her eyes focused on her patient.

"Can I go with them Sir?", asked Sam. She had to be with the Colonel. For some reason she felt connected to him – as if she were responsible for keeping him alive. It was probably because that had been her task since he was hurt – but she knew she couldn't let him go without her. It may have been ridiculous – but she'd beg if she had to.

The General looked at her and seemed to realize that there was something important in this request.

"If there's room for you you can go Captain. Just stay out of the Doctor's way."

"I will Sir", she answered gratefully. With a quick glance at Daniel and Teal'c she turned and headed after the gurney.

The rest of them followed, watching as they carried the man they admired to a waiting vehicle. It was going to be tricky, getting him down the rough mountain road to where the choppers were waiting. They kept their fingers crossed.

Once Janet was in, surrounded by her staff, she again checked O'Neill. For now, he was holding his own. She didn't know how he did it. Again and again he seemed to come back from near death situations. You must have one helluva will to survive, Colonel, she thought.

She glanced up as Sam squeezed her way into the front seat of the vehicle. For some strange reason she felt a sense of relief when the Captain arrived. It was almost as if her presence was necessary for the Colonel's survival. Janet shook her head – she was being silly. What Jack needed right now was expert medical care, not the presence of a teammate. Still ….. she was glad Sam was here.

As they made their way down the mountain Janet was torn by wanting to tell the driver to travel faster, to get him to the hospital as soon as possible – and wanting to tell him to travel slower so as not to hurt the Colonel with the rough movements of the vehicle. She compromised by saying nothing and simply watched her patient.

The steady hum and hiss of the ventilator was hypnotic and she found herself relaxing into the seat. She knew her staff were keeping a close eye on his vitals and the equipment so she allowed herself a rare moment to come down from the stress of the last few minutes. His team didn't know how close it had been – how close it still was. The Colonel was in desperate shape – she still couldn't believe he was alive.

After what seemed like the slowest journey ever, the transport vehicle finally reached the clearing with the helicopters. The med team quickly transferred the gurney. Sam jumped on last and they took off, headed on a short hop to Colorado Springs and the hospital.

"Okay folks – let's move out." General Hammond was exhausted. What had started out to be such an enjoyable day had ended up as nothing short of hellish. He walked back to the emergency vehicle that had brought them up. He saw that SG3, Ferretti's team, had Beiman and Copeland under careful guard. Beiman had been patched up by one of the soldiers. Copeland looked like a man who had nothing left to live for. He was probably right, thought Hammond.

Standing beside them was Jim O'Reilly. He had seen the Colonel being brought out but didn't know how bad it was. He stood looking like he desperately wanted answers but was trying not to get in the way. As the General, Teal'c, Daniel and Ferretti walked up he finally asked.

"How is he?"

"Not good I'm afraid. We almost lost him and the Doc says it's still touch and go."

"God, not again. Why does he always have to be the one? You'd think he'd been through enough." O'Reilly felt terrible. Jack was one of the good guys who really didn't deserve this.

"He **_has_** been through enough", Teal'c agreed. "He is in good hands. Dr. Frasier will ensure O'Neill will be well. He is strong and has much to live for."

"Yeah", but Daniel didn't sound so sure. It wasn't that long ago that Jack has returned from Antarctica, seriously hurt. How much more could he take.

"Let's get going everyone. Ferretti, you and your team will be in charge of the prisoners. Get in touch with the State Police – this will be in their jurisdiction. You can hand them over as soon as they get here."

"Yes Sir", Ferretti looked at his Commanding Officer. "Let Jack know we're all thinking about him." Lou wished he could go with them – Jack was a friend of his as well – but knew he had to take command of his team.

"I will Son. Don't worry – Jack will be there when you get back." George made his voice sound confident although inside, he wasn't so sure.

"Jim, why don't you come with us? There's room and I'm sure you'll want to go to the hospital."

"Yes General. Thank you."

The four men piled into the transport truck and headed down the mountain, each lost in his own thoughts. When they arrived at the bottom Daniel saw someone standing and watching.

"Who's that?" he pointed. The others peered through the growing darkness.

"That's Frank Conway", answered O'Reilly. "If I know him he's dying to find out what's going on. He's full of insatiable curiosity about anything and anyone."

"We met Frank Conway when we arrived", explained Teal'c. "He gave us his wife's pie. It was excellent."

"Yeah, Mildred's famous for her pies around here."

"He also told us of your time in Iraq."

"He did? What did he say?" Jim asked curiously.

"He told us about someone who helped you in prison – a 'jokester' he called him."

"Damn", Jim laughed ironically. "Wouldn't ya know. Did he say the man's name?"

"Yes. As we were leaving he told us the man's name was 'Jack'. We believe he was referring to O'Neill." Teal'c looked calmly at Jim.

"Yeah – Jack saved my life in Iraq – many times over. Frank always liked to hear the stories. I'm sure he embarrassed O'Neill."

"I think Jack was uncomfortable being reminded of Iraq." Daniel added as the car came to a stop in front of Frank.

"He would be. It was pretty bad for him. Hi Frank", Jim called as he exited the truck.

"Jim. What's goin' on at your cabin? These folks came by the other day for a holiday. Somethin' happen?"

"You could say that. A couple of criminals came and took them captive."

"Somebody was hurt. I saw them take him away a few minutes ago. Was it one of the bad guys – or maybe that fellow that was here the other day?" he was dying to know what had happened.

"Yes", answered Daniel, "it was the man who was with us. They attacked him and threw him down a cliff. He's in pretty bad shape."

"Too bad", murmured Frank sympathetically. "Seemed like a nice young fella." Daniel couldn't help but laugh at that description of Jack.

"You remember the guy I told you about from Iraq? The Major who saved my life?" Jim asked.

"Yeah of course. I'm not senile yet O'Reilly. It was your friend Jack – you told me all about him."

"Yes – well the man that was hurt – that was Jack. He was the one who saved my life."

Frank looked at him in shock. He'd had the hero from Iraq in his restaurant and he hadn't known. What a missed opportunity. He had a whole passel of questions to ask the man.

"Well glory be! Who woulda thought! Although, now that I do think of it – it seemed to me he was pretty anxious to avoid hearing me talk about him. He was embarrassed right?' he turned and spoke to Daniel and Teal'c. "What? He a shy man?"

Teal'c and Daniel didn't quite know how to answer this. In some ways Jack was the least shy person they knew – in other ways he could be extremely private.

"Yeah – he's shy" agreed Daniel. He'd have to tell Jack who would get a kick out of that.

"Well – you tell him from me I'm honored to have met him – even if I didn't know it was him. When he's all better tell 'im to come by for another piece of Millie's pie. I'll have her make one of her special pecan pies – she only makes 'em for certain people."

Daniel laughed. Somehow the conversation had made him feel better. Frank's certainty that Jack would be back had given him hope.

"I'll do that." Turning, he saw that the chopper was ready to leave. Hammond was standing motioning for them to get going.

"It was nice meeting you Frank. I'll tell Jack we saw you." He turned and headed for their ride.

"It was indeed a pleasure meeting you. We will return for the pie." With a stately nod, Teal'c also headed to the chopper. Soon, they were all on their way to the hospital.

Janet chose to have the Colonel taken to the Academy Hospital rather than to the Infirmary. His serious wounds needed expert doctors and care which he would get at the Academy. As they arrived, a medical team was waiting on the tarmac. O'Neill was quickly wheeled into Emergency, Janet and her team following. Sam trailed along behind but was stopped by a nurse at the entrance.

"Why don't you come and sit in the waiting room, miss", the nurse put her arm around the exhausted looking woman. "I'll get you a nice cup of tea. The Colonel is in the best hands. I'll let you know as soon as we hear anything." She led Sam into a small waiting room and seated her on one of the comfortable chairs.

"I'll be right back." Giving another, final look at the young woman, the nurse left to get a hot drink and some food. She grabbed a blanket and pillow on the way back. The poor thing looked ready to collapse.

Thanking the nurse Sam sat, wrapped in the blanket. She was so cold – but she knew it wasn't from the temperature, but rather from worry for the Colonel. She drank the tea, which did help a bit, but couldn't stomach the cookies the nurse had brought.

She must have been sitting for close to an hour before she heard the sound of voices. Footsteps approached and suddenly Daniel, Teal'c and General Hammond (with another man whom she didn't know) walked into the room. She took one look at Daniel's worried face and promptly burst into tears. He immediately walked over and sat beside her, putting his arms around her.

"Oh God Sam - don't tell me …"

"No", she hiccupped, "He's fine – at least as far as I know. I was just … I – they – I've just been here by myself and it was all too much. I'm sorry", she sniffed, feeling terrible to have lost it in front of these men."

"Hey, no worries Sam", Daniel answered, relieved. He'd thought for a moment there that they'd lost Jack. "You've had to look after him and keep him alive all this time – you deserve to have a good cry." He leaned over and whispered, "if the General wasn't here both Teal'c and I would probably burst into tears ourselves."

Sam couldn't help but giggle at this – the picture of Daniel and Teal'c engaging in a crying fit was absurd. Suddenly, she was laughing and crying at the same time. Looking up in embarrassment at the General she felt better when she saw his sympathetic expression.

"From what Dr. Jackson and Teal'c told me, Captain, if it wasn't for you Jack wouldn't have made it. You can be proud of yourself."

"No Sir – I mean – we all helped the Colonel – but mostly it was him. He kept going through it all. General," she asked, sitting up straight. She'd just realized she had no idea how he'd known they were in trouble. "How did you know something was wrong Sir?"

The General smiled and answered softly "Jack. The Colonel managed to call me on my cell."

"Really? I didn't think he'd made it."

"He almost didn't. He didn't get a chance to say anything but I was able to hear one of the men who were holding you captive. Jack must have thrown his cell down so the man couldn't see it. I heard him talking about the 'Colonel' and the 'cabin'. I put two and two together and figured you were in trouble. I found out from Jim here" he gestured to O'Reilly, "where his cabin was and the rest is, as they say, history."

Sam looked at the man with the General. "So, you're Jim O'Reilly? Thank you for letting us use your cabin."

He laughed without humor. "Didn't seem to have been such a great time. I'm sorry for all your trouble – and sorry I didn't realize what Hall was up to."

"There is no way you could have known, Jim O'Reilly", Teal'c answered the man. "We are grateful for the use of your cabin – and for helping the General find us."

Jim looked a little puzzled at Teal'c formal manner but nodded and smiled at him. Jack sure picked up some unusual friends, he thought.

"Actually, we had a great time until Hall and the others showed up. I even learned how to make a turkey dinner." Sam couldn't believe how long ago that seemed already.

General Hammond looked surprised. "You did? Who taught you to do that?" he looked over at Daniel expectantly.

"Not me General. It was Jack. He's quite a good cook."

"Really? I always knew he was a man of many talents but I never expected that cooking was one of them."

For the next little while the people in the waiting room – all good friends of Jack's – talked about the Colonel. They each told funny stories as well as some of his more harrowing adventures. They didn't touch on any of the more traumatic events – trying to keep the mood as light as possible while they waited.

Jim threw in a funny story of his own – something which had occurred in the prison in Iraq. This, of course, led to more stories – but they soon turned serious. Although he didn't go into any of the terrible details, the members of the SGC soon began to see a picture of what the Colonel had been through.

They had all known that his experience was bad. The hints that had been dropped, first by Frank and then by Aaron Hall, left no doubt in their minds that he'd been through something from which few recovered. That he had was a miracle in itself – and gave them hope that he'd come out of this as well.

They'd been in the waiting room for almost four hours. They'd long since stopped talking – each too tired, too worried to do more than sit quietly. Daniel and Teal'c had gone and got more coffee and food from the Cafeteria but, although they drank the coffee, the food sat on the table, untouched.

"God, when are we going to hear anything?" Daniel was pacing back and forth.

"They'll tell us as soon as they can Dr. Jackson." The General was feeling just as impatient, but he knew it was useless to try and bother the nurses. They would tell them as soon as they could.

"Maybe we should ask. Someone must know something", Sam was going crazy just waiting. She had to know before she went screaming from the room.

The General sighed. "All right. I'll go see what I can find out." The stars on his shoulders had to be good for something in a military hospital. Just as he stood to go to the nursing station they all heard the sound of footsteps – footsteps they all recognized from the Infirmary halls back at the mountain.

"Janet/Dr. Frasier!" They all spoke at once. Daniel quickly added, "how is he?"

Janet took a deep breath and looked at the expectant faces around her. Closing her eyes briefly in exhaustion she answered.

"He's alive but that's about it. He just came out of surgery and he's in Recovery. They'll take him to the ICU in about an hour."

"What's his condition?" Sam asked in a small voice. Looking at Janet she could tell things weren't good.

"Where do I start?" Janet walked over to the couch and sat down. She was so tired she was afraid she was going to collapse. Leaning forward, holding her head in her hands, she began to speak,

"Let's start at the top. He has a concussion but fortunately the skull wasn't fractured. There was a small bleed but it looks like it's under control and shouldn't cause too much trouble. He has three broken ribs and 2 cracked ones. One of the ribs punctured his right lung. As you saw, we had to put in a chest tube. It'll be in for a few days until his lungs heal. He has a raging case of pneumonia and we have him on broad spectrum antibiotics. There was damage to his spleen and right kidney. We had to go in and repair them but fortunately he didn't lose either – although it was touch and go." She stopped talking, tired by her own cataloguing of his injuries.

"What about .."

"Oh, I'm not finished", she interrupted Sam. "He had a cracked pelvis – he'll be out for at least six weeks with that – and a badly sprained ankle. Let's not forget the numerous cuts, bruises and contusions – we had to put in some stitches but mostly we just had to clean out some of the dirt." Sam looked guilty at this – she'd tried.

Janet looked up and noticed the Captain's expression. "Don't feel bad Sam. You did a great job with the limited supplies you had. If it wasn't for you he wouldn't have made it."

"How about the wound …?" she was too embarrassed to continue.

Janet had long ago lost any embarrassment when it came to the human body.

"You mean in his groin? It was infected and we had to clean it out pretty thoroughly and then sew him back up. The antibiotics he's on should clear it up and thankfully there was no serious damage. It'll be uncomfortable though – although since he won't be able to walk with his hip anyway ….. "

"But he's going to be okay, right?" asked Daniel.

"I don't know Daniel. He lost a lot of blood – from the internal injuries. What worries me the most right now is the pneumonia. He's incredibly weak and isn't able to fight off the infection. The next few days will tell. All we can do at this point is pray and hope that he's tough enough to fight it."

"Can we see him?" Sam wanted to be beside him – she needed to be there.

"Not right now. The nurses have to get him settled first. Once he's in ICU one of you can go for a few minutes but you can't get in the way of the nursing staff. This isn't the Infirmary and they're not going to let you in just because you're on his team."

They all looked at Janet, surprised at her harsh tone. Usually she was very supportive of their need to be by each other's bedside when one of them was ill.

"I'm sorry guys – I'm tired and worried. I'm sure they'll let you in as soon as it looks like he's stabilized. For now I suggest you all get some rest. The next few days are going to be stressful."

"I suggest you be the first one to take your own advice Doctor", the General spoke softly, but in that tone of voice which meant it really wasn't a suggestion but rather an order.

Looking up at her Commanding Officer Janet had to smile. It was good to feel surrounded by 'family'.

"Yes Sir. I'm going. The nurses are providing a room with a few beds but they don't have space for all of us." She stood and walked to the door. "General, I suggest you also get some rest. You have a base to run. The rest of you can decide who gets the beds. I've told the nurses to get me if there's any change in the Colonel." Yawning she headed out the door. She had to lie down.

"General Hammond, I can remain here and do my … " he glanced at O'Reilly, "meditation. With your permission I will remain until O'Neill regains consciousness."

"Thank you Teal'c that'll be fine. Dr. Jackson, Captain – you go on with the Doctor and get some rest. You can see the Colonel when he's settled. Jim – I don't know what …"

"Thanks General – I think I'd better head home. My wife and kids will be worried. Please call and let me know as soon as you know anything about Jack okay?" he paused, "If there's anything I can do …."

"Thanks Jim. I appreciate your help. We'll make sure and let you know as soon as we hear anything. I'm going to head to the base." this to SG1. "Everyone will want an update – and I can catch a few winks. Call me as soon as you know anything." The General nodded and headed out the door. It was difficult - he desperately wanted to stay but knew his duty meant he should head to the base. People there would be worried as well.

Daniel and Sam asked the nurse where Janet was and followed her directions to a small room down the corridor. There were three army cots, but they looked like heaven to the teammates. Janet was already sound asleep in one corner.

"He's going to be fine Sam." Daniel whispered. He hoped that by sounding confident he'd convince himself too. She didn't answer, just lay down on the nearest cot and closed her eyes.

She couldn't sleep, couldn't even rest. She had to see the Colonel. For some reason, it was imperative. Quietly standing up, so as not to disturb Janet or Daniel, she tiptoed to the door. Opening it quietly she headed out to the hall.

Daniel watched as she left – knowing where she was going. He should have stopped her but for some reason felt better that she'd gone. One of them, at least, needed to be with the Colonel.

Okay – cold. Why was he always cold? No, that wasn't true. He remembered being warm a while ago. For some reason he had a mental picture of a semi-naked Sam lying next to him, keeping him toasty. Now, that was a pleasant thought - which you'd better get rid of real quick O'Neill! No going around thinking inappropriate things about your Second. As if Sa – er Carter would snuggle up to you in just her underwear! Must have been a fever-induced fantasy.

All right – back to this cold business. It was definitely getting old. Although – now that he thought about it – it was much better than pain. Yes – better freezing then in pain. The problem was as soon as he thought that he could feel it creeping up on him. Oh yes, here it comes – pain, agony, throbbing, burning really shitty pain.

He groaned – he couldn't help it. It was getting bad but he couldn't seem to tell anyone. Where were they anyway? Surely his team was here? They were always there when he needed them right? He was positive Sam (**not** Sam in her underwear – no, do **not** go there O'Neill) had been with him – snuggled – no, not snuggled – but there with him. He thought Daniel might have been there too. So, where were they now?

He groaned again. It was getting worse – real bad in fact. Wouldn't someone please help him? Please? He couldn't open his eyes but he tried to speak. Something, was in his mouth. Was he gagged? Had he been captured? Oh no, not again. Please someone – help me. Sam? Daniel? Teal'c?

The monitors began to go crazy as his heart rate rose from pain and fear. His head was rocking back and forth from his attempt to control the burning agony coursing through him – that and the terror that he was, once again, being held captive.

Was he in Iraq? Somehow he remembered Jim and Aaron Hall (that bastard) – they were part of his time there. But no, Sam hadn't been there had she? Yes – she had flown planes – but he didn't remember seeing her. Were they off-world? He was so confused. Please can someone help me?"

The nurses were rushing around, attempting to determine what was happening. They could see no obvious problem – except his frantic tossing and groaning.

"Get Doctor Frasier", one of the nurses called. Maybe she could figure this out. He wasn't due anymore meds for a while and shouldn't even have come out from the anesthetic yet.

"What's happening?" Sam asked, frightened, when she saw the activity around the Colonel's bed.

"You shouldn't be here miss. This is the ICU - no visitors allowed." One of the nurses tried to shepherd her out of the room but she pulled her arm away. The Colonel looked frightened, she thought, his movements erratic and panicked.

"Let me go", she said angrily to the nurse. "I need to see the Colonel." She pulled away again and walked to the bed. One of the other nurses attempted to grab her.

"Please, just let me sit with him a moment. I'm his Second in Command, his friend. Please?"

As the monitors continued to go off head nurse shrugged. Dr. Frasier would soon be here and could deal with this.

Sam looked down at the Colonel and saw the film of sweat on his upper lip. She wiped it away with her finger. Her touch seemed to calm him slightly so she touched his cheek again.

"Colonel, it's me, Sam. I'm here Sir. You're all right. Just relax, please!" Again, he seemed to calm although he soon started tossing his head again. After a couple of seconds she heard a small groan. That was not like the Colonel – unless he was unaware of where he was.

Suddenly, his eyes popped open as he groaned even louder. His eyes, appearing unfocused, started moving quickly back and forth, as if he were looking for something. She leaned over and tried to capture his attention.

"Sir", she said firmly. "I'm here. Look at me." It wasn't until she took his head in her hands to still his movements that he finally seemed to notice her. She couldn't tell if he even recognized her but he did quiet down a bit.

While a couple of seconds ago he hadn't been able to focus on anything, now he seemed to be staring hard at her. His eyes didn't leave her face – the only movement being the slow blinking which occurred every few minutes.

Again, she heard the groan, past the tube in his throat. It was when she saw the tears escape from his eyes that she realized.

"He's in pain! He needs something." She turned to the nurses.

"I'm here Sam." thank God – Janet had arrived. "Increase the Colonel's pain medication. The Captain's right – he's clearly hurting."

"Yes Ma'am", the nurse hurried to prepare a needle to insert in his IV. As they waited Jack didn't take his eyes off hers. It was as if she anchored him to reality and helped him deal with his pain and fear.

It didn't take long for the medication to take effect. Jack's eyes slowly closed, although he kept looking at her until he was finally asleep.

"What are you doing here Sam?", Janet asked gently. "I thought I told you to rest."

"I couldn't Janet, I'm sorry. I felt like I was needed here."

Looking down at the Colonel Janet couldn't help but remember the scene into which she'd walked a moment ago. Somehow, she believed Sam was right – she **_was_** needed here.

"I'll get them to bring you a comfortable chair. Try and rest here. In a few hours I'll have Daniel come and sit with him and you can go get some sleep. I think he'll do better if one of his team is here."

The two women looked at Jack, finally sleeping, but with frowns of pain still between his eyes. Yes – he needed his team with him.

Sam reached out and took his hand. "Don't worry Sir ... I'm here."


	14. The Vigil

**_Here it is guys - the last chapter. I hope you've all enjoyed the story and thank you to all the wonderful people who took the time to review and give me your encouraging comments. I'll be following this up with another story soon._**

She sat watching him as the nurses bustled in and out of the room, keeping a close eye on the wounded man. Every few minutes one of the staff would check him closely, looking at the monitors but also feeling his pulse and ensuring his breathing tube was positioned correctly. They clearly took their direction from Janet who was going to make sure that this man survived his injuries!

Sam sat next to the Colonel, only moving when asked to by a nurse who needed to check some of the myriads of tubes entering and exiting his body. Every once in a while he would begin to make small movements as if he couldn't rest – at these times she'd reach out and touch his hand or face and he would immediately settle down.

Janet came by regularly to check him as well. The frown and concerned look on her face a clear indication that O'Neill wasn't out of the woods yet. She would give a quick glance to Sam, smiling briefly and shaking her head. There was nothing to say. It was now a waiting game.

Sam didn't know how long she'd sat there. The minutes ticked by and time lost all meaning. Eventually, she became so tired she started to nod off. Her head would start to fall and she'd jerk back up, trying to keep awake. She had to stay with the Colonel.

She finally lost her fight, her head dropping down to rest on the back of the chair. She started dreaming, scenes of the Colonel and Daniel and Teal'c all mixed up. She was dropping deeper into sleep when a sharp 'Damn it' woke her up.

Sitting up quickly she looked to where Janet was staring down at the Colonel. She looked angry, which confused the exhausted Captain.

"What is it Janet?" The doctor glanced at her quickly and then turned back to Jack.

"His fever's going up. I was hoping the antibiotics would kick in but they don't seem to be working. Come on Colonel", she spoke to the unconscious man. "now's not the time to be pig headed. Just let the damn medicine do its job."

Sighing in frustration she turned to the nurse who was on Jack's other side. "We're going to have to try something else. Can you get Dr. Rasmussen please? Maybe he'll have some ideas." Dr. Rasmussen was the hospital internist but he specialized in lung conditions. He might have some suggestions as Janet had tried everything she knew.

"Sam – why don't you go get some coffee or something." Turning again to her friend the Doctor frowned. "On second thought, you'd better get to sleep. You look like you're ready to collapse."

"But Janet …"

"No 'buts' Sam. I can't have you here right now anyway and I don't need another patient. You go get something to eat and drink and then head to bed. You can tell Daniel he can come and sit with the Colonel in a little while. Don't worry – we're not going to lose the Colonel!" She said this in a voice which meant trouble for anyone who would even _**think**_ such a thing.

Under protest, but taking heart in Janet's words, Sam made her way out of the room, looking back at the pale faced man surrounded by every kind of life saving piece of technology. She knew she had to be grateful for the care he was getting, but right now she could have used a good old-fashioned miracle.

Knowing Janet was right, she made her way to the cafeteria and forced herself to eat a bowl of soup and some juice. She figured coffee was the last thing she needed right now. Heading back to the room with the cots she walked in and saw that Daniel was still sleeping.

Looking at her watch, she realized it was early morning. She'd sat with Jack for almost four hours. Walking over to Daniel she spoke softly,

"Daniel" When he didn't wake us she repeated his name.

"What?" he grumbled sleepily, his eyes not opening.

"Daniel, it's your turn to sit with the Colonel. I have to get some sleep." At these words the Archaeologist sat up quickly.

"Is he okay?"

"No – the medication isn't fighting the infection. Janet's bringing in another doctor who's a specialist or something. She made me leave – said we couldn't be there right now. But she told me to tell you that you can sit with him in a little while – probably when this other doctor is finished."

"Okay Sam", he said, standing up and stretching. "You get some sleep – you look like hell."

"Thanks", she snorted, knowing it was true and not really caring.

"Don't worry. I'll watch out for him." Daniel knew some of what Sam was feeling – that somehow by watching over him his team would ensure he would get better. He didn't understand it – thought it was probably supersticious – but he believed it. He had the same feeling.

Watching Sam for a minute as she took her shoes off and got under the covers (fully dressed this time) he waited until her eyes had closed. It took only a few seconds before her breathing deepened and slowed as she fell asleep.

He went and grabbed a coffee from the machine in the hall. It was probably the worst coffee ever made but right now he didn't care, he simply needed the caffeine. He then made his way to Jack's room.

Peaking in he saw Janet with another doctor and two nurses bustling around. Realizing that it wasn't time to go in yet he leaned against the wall outside the room.

It was another ten minutes before the second doctor left, followed after five minutes by Janet.

"Janet", he called to her as she turned in the other direction. God, she looks like hell too, he thought. "How is he?"

"He's holding his own Daniel. We've just started him on some new medication. It's experimental but Dr. Rasmussen says it's worked well in trials so we're hoping it kicks the infection. How are you doing?"

"Me? I'm fine. I was able to sleep a few hours. Can I sit with Jack?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes, as soon as the nurses have finished getting the IV set up. Just stay out of their way as much as possible. Normally we don't allow visitors into the ICU for any length of time."

"Thanks Janet. I think we all know it's important."

Smiling at the earnest young man she nodded. "I think you're right. Why it makes a difference I don't know but somehow it does. I'll go find Teal'c and tell him to relieve you in a couple of hours."

"I can stay longer than that!"

"Yes, I know you **_can_ but I don't want you to**. Daniel, this may be a long process and I don't want any of you getting sick. The Colonel is going to need you for quite a while so you have to look out for yourselves. Just think of it as being on watch. You can each take three hour shifts then I want you to eat and rest. If you don't I'll refuse to allow you in the room. Is that understood?"

"Yes Doc. I understand. You'd better tell Sam as well. She'll try to fight it you know."

"Yes", she sighed again, "I know. Don't worry – I'll sick General Hammond on her if nothing else works!"

Janet then left to go get some rest herself. She knew her words to Daniel held true just as much for herself as for any of them. She knew the nurses would watch out for the Colonel and would notify her if need be. She prayed she didn't hear anything from them!

After another few minutes standing in the hall Daniel was relieved to see a nurse come out of the room.

"You can go in now. Just watch the equipment and the tubes." Smiling with an encouraging smile she turned and left.

Daniel slowly walked into the room, almost frightened to see his friend. Like Sam, he barely recognized the man in the bed as the 'larger than life', irrepressible Jack O'Neill. This ill, bruised and bandaged man looked nothing like the friend and soldier he'd grown to admire. Instead, he looked almost childlike – but llike a hurt child. Walking up to the bed he carefully reached out and touched Jack's hand, noticing how hot and dry his skin was. As he touched him Jack's hand moved, almost as if trying to grasp something.

Daniel took his hand away which caused frown lines to appear on Jack's forehead. He began to move his hand, searching the covers, agitated at the loss of contact. Realizing his friend needed the comfort of his touch he reached down and grasped Jack's hand in his. Immediately O'Neill relaxed, again appearing to be in a deep sleep.

For the next two and a half hours Daniel stood by Jack's bed, holding his hand. Anytime he tried to move away the sick man would become restless. The nurses gave him sympathetic glances, knowing he must be getting exhausted. Finally, one of them retrieved a stool from one of the examination rooms. It had a seat that could be raised and it allowed Daniel to sit and still stay close.

"How is O'Neill?" Teal'c's voice startled him. He hadn't seen the big man enter the room.

"Oh, hi Teal'c. Ah – he seems to be okay. He's still unconscious." He glanced over at one of the nurses who nodded in agreement. "They started him on some new medication and they're hoping it works better."

"It will work", Teal'c said with certainty. Oh, thought Daniel, to have such confidence! He still worried for Jack.

"I will sit with him now, Daniel Jackson. You must rest."

"No, no, it's okay Teal'c. I'm fine."

"You are not. You are tired and Dr. Frasier has indicated that you are to remain no longer than three hours. It has now been almost that long."

Frustrated, Daniel wanted to argue with Teal'c. He'd had a good sleep and could hold out for much longer. Just as he was about to speak he noticed Teal'c's expression. The Jaffa was looking at O'Neill – with an expression of concern and compassion on his face. Daniel suddenly realized that this wasn't just about relieving Daniel or following Janet's orders. Teal'c was Jack's friend too. He also needed to feel useful, to be by his friend's side. Daniel was being selfish to insist he be the one. With that realization he stood up.

"Okay Teal'c. I'll go and rest for a while. Jack seems to be comforted when I touch him and grows restless when I'm away. You may want to sit on this stool – it's easier than the chair. Try talking to him. The nurses say a few words might comfort him as well."

Teal'c simply nodded his head in acknowledgement. Daniel knew that he was often a man of few words but, in this case he understood that Teal'c was finding it difficult to speak. He wouldn't claim the man (or Jaffa) was choked up – but he was close to it.

Slapping Teal'c gently on the back he turned and headed out of the room.

"I'll send Sam back in a few hours."

Teal'c nodded again, but this time his focus was purely on Jack who was beginning to grow restless again.

At first he didn't know what to say or do. Watching over a 'sick bed' was not something that he had much experience with until he'd come to this planet. Jaffa healed quickly – or died – and compassion wasn't a big part of their culture. He did not know what to say to his friend and he certainly had never held another man's hand.

Knowing that O'Neill was what was important, he reached out and gently laid his hand over that of the man on the bed. Instantly, the Colonel's movements stilled. Daniel Jackson was right – he seemed to need the contact.

Sitting down on the stool he began to speak in soft, melodious tones. He began by telling O'Neill of his childhood – those far off days of innocence and joy before he joined the service of the false god Apophis.

When Sam woke up she couldn't figure out, for a moment, where she was. She had slept deeply and had that fuzzy feeling you get when you take a 'too-long' nap in the middle of the day. When it all came back to her she immediately stood up and stretched. Following a quick stop in the bathroom – where she also washed her face with a cool cloth – she headed down the long hall to Jack's room.

When she arrived, all was quiet. Knowing they would have come for her if anything was wrong she slowly entered the room. What she saw surprised her. Teal'c – their very own 'inscrutable' Jaffa was holding one of Jack's hands in one of his. With his other he was gently wiping a cloth over Jack's forehead. It was an incredibly tender scene and she felt her throat tighten with emotion.

This man, who had left his home and family to travel to a distant planet, had found in Colonel O'Neill not just a brother – but a guide, a mentor – and a soul-mate. She had known, since the beginning, that he felt allegiance to the Colonel. What she hadn't known was the fierce love and friendship he felt towards this man who had called him to freedom.

"Teal'c", she called softly. He simply turned his head and nodded in his usual, stately manner.

"O'Neill is resting. Do you wish to sit with him now?"

"Yes, I'll take over Teal'c. Thank you."

"There is no need to thank me Captain Carter. It is my privilege and honor to watch over O'Neill. I leave him with you – knowing that you too will ensure his well-being."

Smiling she couldn't help but lean over and give Teal'c a warm kiss on the cheek. They were all so lucky to have each other.

He actually smiled in return. She had to admit that his smile was deadly. Good thing he didn't pull it out too often or half the women in the SGC would lie fainting on the floor!

As he stood up to give Carter his seat he spoke, "You must hold O'Neill's hand. It gives him comfort."

"I will Teal'c." As the big man left the room she turned and looked down at the Colonel. She was hoping that she would have seen a difference after her six hour sleep but he appeared the same. He clearly had a fever as his skin was flushed an unnatural red color on top of the stark whiteness underneath.

"Oh Sir", she whispered softly, taking his hand, "you have to get better."

It was about an hour after she'd arrived that she was startled, when looking up, to see his eyes open. They were glassy, as he was clearly heavily drugged, but they were looking directly at her. He stared for a few seconds until his eyes slowly began to close."

"Nurse, he opened his eyes." She called softly to the uniformed woman on the other side of the small room.

"I'm sure it was just reflex. He's pretty deeply unconscious. We don't expect him to regain full consciousness for a few days yet." The nurse smiled at her in sympathy.

Rather than upsetting her the words somehow brought comfort. The nurse spoke confidently of him waking up in a few days. That gave her hope.

Over the next couple of hours Jack's eyes opened two or three more times. Each time he would look around for a second, growing restless, until he found her. He would then simply stare, without blinking, until his eyes drifted shut.

While at first she thought that the nurse was probably right, and it didn't mean anything, after a while she changed her mind. She was sure Jack was looking at her. It was as if he was checking to make sure a member of his team was there. Once satisfied, he'd go back to sleep. Maybe she was dreaming – or hoping something – that wasn't true. But she was sticking to it!.

When Daniel came to spell her off after her three hours were up she told him about the waking episodes.

"I'll watch for it Sam, don't worry. You just go and get some rest and I'll keep an eye on Jack. I suggest you go out and get some fresh air. It's chilly out but it'll do you good. I know I felt better afterward. Oh, and you should probably call the General. I think Janet's keeping him informed but he might like to hear from you as well."

"Okay Daniel", she didn't want to leave – she felt like she was abandoning the Colonel – but she knew Janet meant business. Anyway, going outside did appeal. She felt 'stale' after having been in the hospital for so long.

"Daniel", she turned to him.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to ask the General if he'll send someone with some clean clothes for me. Do you want me to have him do the same for you?"

"That'd be great – and my toothbrush and some shampoo."

As she turned once to the door she couldn't help one last look at the Colonel.

"Look after him for us Daniel."

"I will Sam, don't worry."

Daniel was quick to discover that Sam was right about Jack. He regularly opened his eyes and would stare at Daniel until he fell back asleep. He wondered if it really meant anything or if it was just reflex, like the nurses claimed. He was soon to find.

He had sat by O'Neill's side for a couple of hours when one of the nurses asked him to step away while they checked some of the machinery and tubes. Daniel moved back into the corner, watching as the nurses efficiently checked and changed bags and lines. It was while they were working that Daniel saw Jack's eyes open again.

For a few seconds he looked around, his eyes moving to the side where Daniel had been sitting. Almost immediately Jack started to grown agitated. The heart monitor sped up, the beeping sounding unnaturally loud in the small room. His head began to toss back and forth and soft moans could be heard coming from his throat. His hands started to move on the mattress, obviously seeking something.

The nurses were alarmed, moving quickly to his side. One of them tried to hold his head so he wouldn't disturb the breathing tube, but his movements grew steadily more violent and the sounds from his throat more distressed.

"Get a sedative!" one of he nurses shouted, "and call Dr. Frasier. Something's wrong."

It was then that Daniel realized – Sam _**was**_ right. He quickly moved towards Jack.

"I'm sorry Dr. Jackson", Nurse Menendez said sharply, "you'll have to leave now. Don't get in our way, please."

"No – nurse, Jack needs to see me. That's what's wrong. Please – just let me stand beside him."

Menendez grew angry, insisting he leave. It was about to turn into a shouting match, with the nurse trying to hold on to Jack while forcing him to leave, when Janet walked into the room.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked - looking at each of them in turn.

"Dr. Jackson won't leave Doctor – and something is wrong with the Colonel."

Janet looked at Daniel – this wasn't like him. "Daniel, you have to go." She walked to her patient, concerned at his frantic movements and the monitors which were shrieking their warnings.

"No – Janet – it's Jack, he needs to see me. That's what's wrong - he's panicking. Don't you understand, he needs to see me. Please!"

If it had been anyone else – anyone other than Colonel O'Neill and his team, she would have scoffed and quickly expelled the person. In this case, however, she paused. Nothing that happened with SG1 surprised her. Making a quick decision she spoke,

"Let him come over here. We'll see quickly if it makes a difference. If not, you have to leave immediately, Daniel, do you understand?"

"Yes Janet, of course." As he was speaking he was moving quickly to Jack's side. He took the man's hand in his and spoke quickly and clearly.

"Jack, I'm here. Look at me. I'm here now and I won't leave." For a fraction of a second there was no response, Jack kept up his frantic movements. Suddenly, however, he turned, his eyes searching for something. Daniel reached down and gently touched the Colonel's cheek, turning his face towards himself.

"Jack, look at me." Finally, the Colonel looked directly into Daniel's eyes. The change was immediate. His movements stopped and the heart monitor began to slow as stared at Daniel. He didn't blink, didn't move his head or his eyes – he just stared.

Janet smiled a small, but satisfied smile. Yup – SG1 strikes again. She turned to the stunned looking nurses and spoke, "Any of the members of the Colonel's team are to be allowed to stay at all times." The nurses simply nodded – Menendez looked apologetically over at Daniel.

"I'm sorry Dr. Jackson, I had no idea."

"That's okay. You were just doing your job. And anyway – it's Jack – he always does things to confuse people!"

For the next few days the team continued to sit by his bed. They didn't once allow him to be alone. Although he never regained consciousness completely, he continued to open his eyes regularly to check and make sure a member of his team was there. If he couldn't see one of them he always became upset – so the nurses worked around the team members, not even wanting to have them move to a different spot in the room.

Jack slowly got better – with some setbacks – but finally he was out of danger. His team sighed a collective sigh of relief and thanksgiving when Janet gave them the news. Looking at each other, they all smiled. Their friend would be okay.

He had long ago lost any awareness of where he was or what had happened. There were brief moments when he thought he might be in the Infirmary or hospital – he would occasionally smell that pervasive smell of 'sickness' that lingered in those places. But, other than that he knew nothing.

For the most part he wasn't in pain – although at certain times it would return and burn through him. Those times were quickly followed by soft movements, a tug on his arm and a blessed feeling of relief.

The one thing that kept him grounded during this time (how much, how long he had no idea) was the knowledge that someone was watching over him.

He was not aware of the opening of his eyes, or his checking to see if a friend was near. All he knew was that he felt safe and loved. There had been a couple of times when that feeling had disappeared. That had left him feeling lost and frightened and so cold. He had tried to cry out, to beg for help, but no sound had come. The feeling of terror had grown until suddenly, someone or something pulled him to safety and to a feeling of warmth.

He rested, safe in the knowledge that he was not alone.

It was on the fifth day after his return from the cabin that he started to become aware of his surroundings. He cautiously opened his eyes. Hearing a sound, he slowly turned them and saw Sam sitting by the bed. She looked directly back at him but didn't seem to react to his being awake. Even though he still felt incredibly weak and 'fuzzy' this kind of irritated him. He didn't expect a brass band, but he could have at least received a "hi Colonel, nice to see you're awake' or something similar.

He went to say something, to show her he was a little unhappy at her reaction, but found he couldn't talk. There was something stuck in his throat. Okay, what the hell was going on? Sam sat like a zombie and there was a bloody stick in his mouth! Would somebody please tell him what this was about?

He made a soft noise and tried to glare at the Colonel. That did it! He suddenly saw her eyes grow big and she sat up.

"Colonel! My God, you're awake!"

Well good for you Captain! What gave it away? The open eyes, he said to himself.

She stood up and instantly reached for the cord to call the nurse. Since he had been out of danger for the last 24 hours the nurses no longer stayed in the room every minute.

She looked back at O'Neill and saw him reaching for the breathing tube.

"No Sir, don't touch. Janet will be here soon. You're on a respirator – don't try and remove it."

Oh, so that's what it was. He should have known. He'd experienced the hellish things before. He was starting to feel a bit sharper although he still felt incredibly exhausted and – sore – okay, maybe sore was too tame – he – well damnit – he hurt! He could use some of those nice painkillers – if he could only TALK he'd tell them so.

It was a couple of minutes before Janet and the nurses arrived. In the meantime he'd watched Captain Carter, a silly grin on her face, try and smooth his covers, remove the hair from his eyes (okay, she got embarrassed as soon as she reached to do that) and generally 'fuss'. What the hell was wrong with her? It's not like he was dying or anything.

"Colonel. Nice to see you're really awake this time." Really awake? What did that mean, he wondered? Could you be 'unreally' awake?

"Okay, I'm going to remove this tube – I think you're ready to start breathing on your own. Stephens, monitor his breathing and O2 levels carefully. We may have to reinsert if this doesn't work." She turned to the Colonel once again.

"Okay Sir, I'm going to pull this out. When I say 'go' breathe out. It may be uncomfortable but it'll be over quickly. And Colonel – we have to watch to make sure you're ready for this, okay? If not we may have to re-intubate. Do you understand?"

He nodded his head – he just wanted her to get on with it. He was starting to fade fast, so tired he could barely keep his eyes open – but first he wanted to breath on his own.

"Okay Sir – now." He did as she said and breathed out. The feeling of the tube leaving his throat made him gag – it also hurt. His throat felt like someone had moved in and had decided to sand paper the whole damn thing!

"How's he doing?" Janet looked over to the nurse who was watching the monitor.

"Good so far Doctor. His levels are staying up." They all watched for a couple of more minutes. When it was clear that he could handle breathing on his own Janet turned and looked at him with a pleased expression (as if she had anything to do with it he thought – he's the one who was doing the work!).

Although thankful he didn't have to have the tube again, he admitted to himself that breathing was not the easy, comfortable thing it usually was. Every breath burned his lungs and took a lot of effort. He had to actually concentrate on the in/out motion. His throat was also incredibly dry and painful. So much so that he didn't even want to ask for a glass of water.

"Here Sir", Sam handed him a cup with a lid and straw. Okay, Captain, that'll help me forgive you for not welcoming me back! He took a couple of sips – it hurt but at the same time felt wonderful. Yeah – I definitely forgive you Captain.

While he'd been sipping the water Janet had been doing a quick check. Satisfied that he was doing well she stood back and watched him. He was looking terrible – pale, bruised, gaunt – but also wonderful. He looked alive.

"I didn't realize he'd even woken up Janet", Sam was saying. "I thought it was just another one of his 'check's'. He then started looking really mad", she giggled, "and I realized he _**was**_ awake. He must have thought I was ignoring him."

Yeah Captain, I did. What's this about my 'checks'. What's she talking about now? Sometimes he found it impossible to understand his Captain. ….. _**his?**_ Where had that come from, he wondered in confusion?

Oh well – he was really much too tired to worry about it right now. He figured he'd might as well go back to sleep. He was warm, relatively pain free (had he seen Frasier sneak something into his IV?), and had nothing to do. As he closed his eyes, ready to head back to 'dreamland' he had one last, extremely pleasant, thought. He imagined an 'almost naked' Carter, snuggled up against him. Yeah – fantasies were wonderful!

"Ah, come on Doc. I've been here almost three weeks. Can't I get outta here? You can take me to the Infirmary and I promise I won't complain."

"Ha! If I believed that I'd rush out and by myself a lottery ticket because it would mean a miracle had occurred. Colonel – you _**always**_ complain in the Infirmary."

"Yeah – but I won't this time if you let me out of here. I hate the hospital even more than I hate the Infirmary. Hey, I have an even better idea – why don't you let me go home? That way I won't complain at all and I won't bother anyone."

"Nice try Sir but no way. I'm afraid you have a while longer in the hospital. You need to let your injuries heal more before I'll let you out. You can't even walk yet for goodness sake."

The Colonel whined, just like a child denied a longed for treat. "Okay – but at least the Infirmary? Please?"

"Why do you want to go there Colonel? It's dark and not nearly as nice. At least here you can see the outdoors."

"Yeah but …." And here he stopped, uncomfortable with his real reason for wanting to return to the mountain. He was lonely! His team had stayed with him for days but eventually he'd made them go home. They were all looking almost as bad as he was! He appreciated, more than he could say, or ever would admit, their faithful watching over him – but he couldn't let them do more.

That didn't mean, of course, that they didn't visit. No, they all came regularly and tried to keep him entertained. At first he did not much more than sleep. He would wake up for short periods of time but would then fall quickly back to sleep. His body needed the rest.

No – as much as they were good about visiting – he knew that he would see them even more at the SGC. He could also get visits from some of the other guys and women stationed there. He hadn't yet been allowed other visitors – other than General Hammond and Jim O'Reilly – but knew that if he were in the Infirmary there'd be a steady stream of people coming to see him.

Anyway – the SGC was his second home. If he couldn't be in his 'real' home, then he'd still much rather be there.

"Okay Colonel, I tell you what, I'll talk to Dr. Woodward (the Orthopedic Surgeon) and see if he thinks you can be moved. If he says it's okay we'll arrange it for this Friday – and no sooner", she added when she saw he was going to argue. It was Tuesday today so that meant another three days. Damn! Oh well, he could handle it as long as he knew he was getting out soon.

Finally the day arrived. The orderlies came and carefully moved him onto a gurney. Okay, that hurt! He hadn't realized how sore he still was. He hadn't been out of bed yet and was told it would be awhile – now he understood why.

By the time he'd arrived at the Infirmary he was exhausted, in pain and incredibly bad tempered. He snapped at everyone, including his team who'd accompanied him. Finally, after biting Carter and Daniel's noses off for about the fifteenth time, the two members of SG1 stood up together.

"Jack, when you're decided to stop acting like a five year old, we'll be back." He and Carter turned and walked to the door.

"Hey – where you going. Come on guys – don't go. I'll get bored." He looked at Teal'c – at least the Jaffa wasn't running away.

"Come on Teal'c, you want to play cards or something?"

"No O'Neill, I do not. I do not play cards with whining infants!" And on that note he turned and left.

Jack lay there, feeling very sorry for himself. Hey, he knew he'd been a jerk – but couldn't they cut him some slack? He was feeling miserable and very alone.

As he lay there, no one around, he thought back to some of the bad things that had happened to him. The latest memory at the cabin was simply added to the rest of the garbage he had to deal with. What was the hardest, right now, was the memories that were starting to surface about Iraq. This whole episode – and seeing Hall again – had brought back memories he'd hoped were long suppressed.

This was another reason he'd wanted to come back to the SGC – he had too much time at the Hospital to ponder about all the crap in his life. He'd hoped that by being here he'd be distracted. Boy, was he wrong!

By the time Janet came to check on him he'd worked himself into a pretty heavy-duty depression. He was listless and quiet – simply obeying all Janet's instructions without one argument or sarcastic comment.

This caused her to grow very worried. She knew that depression could be a serious aftereffect of going through any kind of physical trauma. She hoped the Colonel wouldn't have to deal with that too.

"Where's your team Colonel?" she asked, hoping to cheer him up. "I thought they'd be here with you."

He simply shook his head, not saying anything.

"Colonel?" she asked, "Is something wrong?" He again shook his head.

"No, just tired. I think I'll sleep." He closed his eyes, effectively shutting off any more questions.

Now, she had no doubt that the trip had been tiring, but something didn't seem right. Leaviing Jack to – hopefully – sleep, she walked out of the Infirmary in search of three missing people.

Finally finding them all in the Commissary eating lunch, she grabbed a coffee and sat down beside them.

"Janet/Dr. Frasier" Sam and Daniel both smiled at her. "How's everything."

"Okay I guess", but she didn't sound too sure.

"What?" asked Sam, catching something in Janet's tone.

"Hmmmm?" Janet turned and looked at Sam. "Sorry – what did you say?"

"I simply said 'what'. I was wondering if something was wrong. You look worried."

"Oh, hopefully it's nothing", she took a sip of coffee.

"Janet! Come on …. What's 'nothing'?"

"Oh – it's just the Colonel." At that the rest of SG1 sat up and suddenly looked serious.

"What's wrong with the Colonel?" Sam wanted to know.

"It's just that I thought he'd be pleased to be back here. He begged hard enough! It's just that he seems kind of depressed. I could barely get him to talk." Looking up suddenly at the three friends and teammates she frowned. "I thought you guys would be with him. Did he kick you out?"

The faces in front of her suddenly looked shamefaced. She knew then that 'something' was up.

"What happened?" she asked firmly.

"Jack was acting like an ass – you know how he gets Janet. We decided we didn't want to take it anymore so we left. We had no idea he was depressed. He just seemed his usual cantankerous self."

"What!" Janet looked quite angry. "What the hell is wrong with you people? The Colonel is just recovering from major injuries and trauma. He almost _**died**_ – many times. It's a miracle that he survived. He just spent the morning being moved here – something which I really shouldn't have allowed – and he's exhausted and in pain. And the three of you decided that because he was 'grumpy' you'd walk out on him. Shame on you." Janet stood up, so angry she could spit.

"Of course he's grumpy. It's the way he deals with things when they're bothering him. I thought you all knew him well enough to know that by now. Well, the three of you just stay here and enjoy your lunch. I have to go visit a friend who's all by himself." She turned and stomped out of the room.

"Dr. Frasier is correct. We were unfair to O'Neill.' Teal'c stood – he had to return and see his friend.

"Yeah, she's right, all right. I don't know why we let him get to us. We should have known." Standing up he too prepared to go back to the Infirmary.

Sam felt the worst of all. How could she have been so mean? She knew what the Colonel was like. He was amazing when hurt – but hell when recuperating. That didn't mean he didn't want or need his friends with him.

"Okay – let's all go. What are we going to do to make the Colonel feel better?" They all looked at each other, wondering how to help the Colonel. Sam suddenly grinned and walked over to the cafeteria line. Grabbing a big piece of chocolate cake she returned to where her teammates were standing.

"Cake!" Weapon number one in the 'how to cheer the Colonel up' campaign. Daniel grinned and turned to the door.

"I'll be right back. I'm gonna get my chess set." Hurrying from the room he went to retrieve weapon number two.

"Excuse me Captain Carter. I too must retrieve something from my quarters." When she looked questioningly at him he answered,

"GameBoy – O'Neill gave it to me for your 'Christmas'. I believe he enjoys playing the games."

Grinning, Sam walked to the Infirmary. She arrived before the two men and so walked into the room. The Colonel was sleeping – or at least resting – so she had a chance to look at him for a while.

He was starting to look better although it would be a while before he was back to his old self again. Even though he was bruised and battered, he was still an incredibly attractive man, she thought. Feeling a shiver pass through her she tried to stop her thoughts.

"He's not even interested Sam", she said to herself. "You're just a young officer under his command – get over him!" She knew she was falling for her Commanding Officer – something positively, absolutely not allowed in the military. It really didn't matter anyway, she thought. He wasn't interested in her in the same way.

Still – it was nice to dream. And who knows – maybe one day we'll get a chance to find out if there could be something between us – maybe one day when she no longer served under him!

"Hey Captain. Whatchya doin'?" Jack had opened his eyes and had seen his 2IC standing watching him. God, she was beautiful, he thought. Now that he was getting better he'd have to put a stop to all these fantasies he'd been allowing himself. There was no way any kind of personal relationship would happen (even if she'd been interested) so he'd better get a grip. Still – it was nice to dream. Who knows, he thought, maybe someday?

"Hi Sir. I came bearing gifts", she held up the cake and a fork.

"Sweet!", he grinned. "Can you roll me up a bit there Captain." He couldn't sit up completely but Janet did allow him to have the bed raised slightly. He was going crazy flat on his back.

"Sure Sir." Putting the cake down on the side table she carefully raised the head of his bed a few inches. She then reached over and handed him the cake.

"I'm sorry Colonel."

"What for?" he asked through a mouthful of cake.

"For leaving you here. I know you're tired and I think we are too – otherwise we would never have left."

Her words were like a balm to his soul. They hadn't deserted him! At least Sam still cared (as a subordinate and friend of course). He did have to admit, however, that he'd been a bastard.

"No apologies needed Sam. I was being a jerk and you did the right thing. You were right. I was tired and ended up taking it out on you. I'm just glad you came back …. with cake of course!" He smiled at her and they both felt relieved (and something else although they both refused to acknowledge it).

A few minutes later the remaining members of his team entered, also bearing gifts. As tired as he was, he enjoyed spending the afternoon laughing and playing games. His team was here – his new family that he'd gained – was surrounding him and he felt at peace. He could feel the healing taking place. Yeah, he was going to be all right.

There was a lull in the conversation and he looked up at his team.

"So, what are we gonna do for Christmas?"

_**The End – Thanks for coming along on the ride with me! Another story is coming soon.**_


End file.
